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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 10 months

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A/N: Erik killed your husband, T'Challa, and took the throne. Y'all got beef and sexual tension. This is part 3 and the end. Smut included.

Part 1 Part 2

In the 20 minutes on the airship, you and Killmonger don't talk. He adjusts his neck. He plays with his nails. You cross your ankles in the opposite direction.

Since what he said, it's been a week of silence on your end. You admit. It got to you, the guilt. Was what he said wrong, yes, but there was truth within it, and that truth made you feel like the worst traitor of them all.

Still, all week, he's slid paperwork under your door, and you've quietly scratched out full paragraphs, sending it back with pen-inked edits. One pleasure of being an advisor? You get to piss him off and hear him sigh through the door. It's his own fault for attaching clauses as if you won't comb through all 15 pages of his loosely worded proposals. You have the time.

"I humored your request to replace the Dora as a trade-off for your active participation today. Make me look good," he reminds you as you step off the airship into Step Town, located in the Golden City. Last you were here was with T'Challa. This was his place to get away from the stress of the palace. Now you understand. Here, he could breathe and walk the streets. You take a breath of the fresh air though people are everywhere.

The two of you have come to do a walk-through and some small-scale mediation for morale. You take the reigns at D'Jouti's and Sampha's, speaking before Killmonger can manipulate or spread his unidentified agenda. It's a property dispute. You keep it at a property dispute. It takes a lot of skill, skill that you learned watching T'Challa manage strong personalities.

"Killmonger," you gesture, bringing him in finally. If the men want to meet the 'new king' so badly, that's their prerogative.

"Ndingu Yaba N'Jadaka." Sternly, he shakes their hands and looks them in the eye as if he truly cares for them. If you didn't know better, you'd believe it. Fortunately, you do know better. "Let me know how I can help you in the future."

They nod eagerly, easily enamored.

"Why wait, why not now," you challenge.

Killmonger's brow arches so quickly that they miss it. It's his own fault for being disingenuous. While they voice their thoughts, and every gripe that's been eating them since T'Chaka, you abandon him. Serves him right.

Step Town is the cultural and economic hub. The variety here is more than you'll get anywhere else nearby, perfect for shopping. You comb through colorful beaded jewelry, picking up a deep green stone necklace. You have fabric this color.

"About you behaving on this trip?"

You sigh, ignoring the evil immigrant as he comes up behind you. Instead of engaging, you pay for the necklace with a smile at the young saleswoman. She made it herself.

"Thank you," she smiles back.

"No, thank you. It's beautiful!"

He waits until you walk away from her stand to address you alone, gripping your wrist when you start to walk away from him. You shoot him a sharp look and feel his fingers slip away.

"If you won't behave out here, neither will I. You've been warned."

"You wanted them to get on their knees and worship you like a God for appearing to them. I simply skipped past the bullshit. If you're going to be King, be King, but the nonsense has to end."

A lustful wickedness flares in his eyes.

"Not interested. Move on."

"I've got your clearance to be King."

"That's not at all what I said."

"Same thing." His eyes shine as he looks out on the marketplace with new interest.

"It's not at all," you sigh. "I'm telling you. Don't disgrace my country or disturb the peace we've built."

"Maybe it needs to be disturbed." He grins at a passerby, putting on his caring act once more.

"Don't you get tired of beating a dead horse? I'm sick of you," you frown. Violence as a perpetual state? Exhausting. Who besides him would want that?

The next point in the visit for morale is Aishat's Contracting Services. Again, you dominate the interaction, purposefully cutting Killmonger off when you realize he's planting the seeds for future manipulation. He interrupts with nationalist rhetoric and fear-mongering not easily spotted in casual conversation.

"It's impressive," you interrupt his interruption. "You're able to resolve this amicably, but if I may? Hatred gives rise to violence and creates the conditions for war. Caution is a virtue of the wise."

"Yes, Queen. Wise take. Wish you'd take that mindset to heart, maybe we'd get along," he winks, cheeky in front of the contractors. You glare, a bullet already loaded in your mental chamber.

"We don't see eye to eye because, unlike you, I subscribe to civility, not senseless murder."

"See, that's contrary to what I know to be true." His head tilts as he engages his crowd. "I'm guessing your six attempts on my life don't equate. You know what it does equate to? Treason. But you know the penalty for that. I don't have to quote Wakandan law to you."

The thinly veiled threat of exile surprises the people. It's good. They need to see his nature.

"I'd hardly call it that. You did insult the past kings, including my late husband," you turn, completely throwing him under the bus.

"We fornicated in the bed you and he shared. His spot is still warm, in fact. Is that not also insulting the late King, or am I mistaken?"

Eyes are wide and judging.

"Do you really want to do this, my Queen?"

"How dare you spew such vile lies!"

You muster the calm to keep the overwhelming shame at bay well enough to conceal. Meanwhile, he continues the professional conversation. Too much denial makes you look guilty, so you don't continue, but you now see firsthand how people believe him.

Your head remains high as he follows you. Putting your feelings aside, you smile to others as you're offered free food. You insist on purchasing the roasted corn and pears as they are inexpensive and delicious.

"I agreed to replace the Dora under the impression that you'd keep your end of our bargain," Killmonger mutters when no one is in listening distance, and you're boarding the airship once more.

"Oh! Did I Iie to you? Imagine that." Your nose scrunches as you take your seat. He takes his.

"It's cool, I match energy."

Sighing, you close your eyes. You can't control what these people believe anymore than you can control anything else these days.

"Now, half the city, possibly the country, will know what we did."

"And that's all you have on me."

You're actually asleep, which is unexpected. Erik slides to the front to enjoy the colors of the sky. His father was right. Wakandan sunsets have quickly become his favorite thing.

At the palace, he prepares for another silent dinner. You sit at the opposite end of the table without provocation. The Queen being seen and not heard ain't a bad deal. It's been peaceful, something rare.

You leave the table, still shameful after eating and living life as usual, and with enough on his mind to contemplate, he retires to his own quarters. He's added his own touches at this point: black and gold, Wakandan tapestries, and a Tupac printed duvet. He's also gotten hold of the highest of Wakandan tech, some for entertainment and communication, some for more nefarious purposes.

He's in for the night, plotting because his plans for the world depend on his ability to stay three steps ahead at all times. Step one has been realized. As King, he's able to complete his father's work but with a twist. Now, he has to move strategically. After all, he will be starting a world war very soon.

Imagining the fall of Europe makes his stomach leap. It bubbles with sharp shooting pains. On second thought, he makes it to the bathroom just in time to shit his stomach out through his ass. It's still churning as if trying to self-abort him from this plane.

"AIDA!"

His body's feeling fatigued, face and neck shining from a sheen of cold sweat.

"My king," she responds from the opposite side of the door. Suddenly, he feels faint.

"Check on the Queen and report back. And get the doctor!"

"At once."

It's a good thing the palace has its own physician. Waiting in immense pain, nausea, and misery, he lifts his head when Aida knocks.

"The Queen is perfectly healthy."

That confirms it. You've finally done it.

Dr. Ebi confirms the poison, treating Erik in the infirmary with an emergency transfusion and educating him that he would NOT have died thanks to the herb, but thanks to advanced Wakandan medicine, his sickness is healed completely and in much less time.

Erik laughs from the infirmary bed, going from stress to feeling invincible. The only thing keeping him from teaching you a lesson now is exhaustion. After he sleeps... It's on.

He collapses in the medical room that's been darkened for comfort. Even this is a five-star bed and breakfast compared to combat conditions where he slept in uninhabitable places, always on high alert.

Almost immediately, he drifts off into a dreamland where his father comes to him. Suddenly, he's a little boy who's been caught rummaging through his father's belongings, but his father isn't mad. He simply holds him.

"I did it, Baba. I'm the King."

"So you are," N'Jobu smiles.

"And guess what? I can unite us again. All of our tribes around the world, we'll finally be one big tribe, just like you said."

"You've worked hard to make your dream happen. I am proud."

"Even if-" Erik wonders, now his true age. "Even if I've done bad things to get here?"

The war, the murder, the pillaging, the deceit... It all flashes in his mind like a movie.

"Does the end justify the means?"

He's only had the hope that it would, but what if he fails and it's all been in vain? That would mean he sacrificed all those lives for nothing.

N'jobu, knowing all that's occured having seen it through his eyes, raises his chin.

"Head up. You are a King, yes, but more than that you are my son, and no matter what you do, I will remain on your side always."

It's what Erik's needed to hear. If his father's the only one to believe in him, it's enough.

Erik bolts upright in the darkened room, still half-in a dream. He's heard noise when he should be alone. He lies back down, wiping his eyes and waiting, in kill mode for the next hour until the threat lurking in shadow is revealed and edging silently toward him. The feminine physique gives nothing away, considering he's surrounded every day by deadly women, each of them harboring a motive.

"UH!" You grunt, giving away your identity when he knees you in the gut.

"The fuck?"

Flipping on the beside lamp, he can see you completely, crumbled over the bed with a bigass machete in your hand.

"You got something against me sleeping? Give me damn the machete before you hurt yourself."

You take your swings instead, chasing him across his infirmary bed where he sweeps your legs and pins you by the chest in a simple and painless hold.

"You ain't on that level, Queen. Play with someone safe."

He moves his head from the path of your slow fists. You cry out as he captures your wrist, squeezing until the machete falls to the bed. He puts it to your throat.

"Neither are you," you smirk, meeting his eyes proudly. "I ALMOST TOOK YOU OFF THIS EARTH! I'll do it again, and again, and AGAIN..."

Despite the machete at your neck, there's no fear. You both know he won't do it.

"You'll never know peace," you continue. "I'll KEEP trying and one day? Very soon. It WILL work because you're weak."

That last word gets to him despite his best effort not to react. You're about to have a field day with this word now that you know it's a trigger.

"The confidence you must have to talk shit in a vulnerable position..."

He almost sounds bored, but you know better.

"You won't kill me. First of all, you're too weak. Second, you NEED me. Without me, you're a tyrant, and it's hard to gain the backing of a nation when you're an enemy of the people."

"It's not that hard actually," he mutters. "You wanna know why I REALLY keep you around? Who ELSE would put up with the woe is me shit? Every day, full of guilt and mad at the world. I didn't even LIKE that nigga, but you're right to be mad. That's why I'm the only one who gets you."

"Oh shuut uuup," you sigh, taking advantage of the monologue to pull a little knife you stole from the kitchen and plug it into his stomach.

"SHIT!" His face scrunches.

You push harder, tired of his manipulation. He's already showed his true colors. You won't believe in him again.

"You gone cut yourself," he winces, the machete still at your throat. "Trying to hurt me, you gone fuck around slit your own throat by mistake."

"I don't care, if it'll shut you up."

Even if it does cut, you won't die. You lean into the machete to his surprise and twist the small blade into his gut. He staggers back, but not before you get sliced pretty good in the process.

"I ain't ever warned one person this many times," his brows knit in frustration. You can see the pain in his eyes.

"It feels good to cause you pain," you stare, not wanting to miss a second.

His eyes narrow briefly as he holds his breath to pull the bloodied blade from his stomach. "Ugh, fuck," he winces. "You REALLY think you doing something, too. That's the painful part."

Dropping the knives on the floor, he kicks both away toward the door.

"I see. I'm a have to teach you a few things."

You want him so bad that you can't sleep or think straight. It's clear to him. Is it clear to you?

Erik climbs to his feet and shoves you back for a moment to breathe. Your eyes are still trained on him like you're not done. It's not only rage at him. It's toward yourself.

Blood's dripping down your neck, but you don't feel it due to the adrenaline in your body. Seems he's underestimated your ability to handle rough play.

"You need stitches."

You come at him again, and reflexively, he flings you back, which fuels your homicidal vengeance-seeking. You'll never break if he keeps dodging or pushing you back. That much is now clear.

Fuck it, he decides, looking into your rage-filled eyes. He'll give you a win just this once and if your psycho ass wants blood?

Let there be blood.

Your responding smile is contemptuous. Your eyes only flash to the knives for a millisecond, but it's done with the intention of tricking him. You want him to think you'll go for them like you went for that glass in your bedroom. That means he has to actually dive for it to give you a shot.

"How about a visual demonstration," you grin widely. "Of your death!"

As you speak, you fake and use his dive response to knee him across the face, right in his golden tooth.

"I've been hit harder during basic training," he admits, watching you seethe. "Try again."

Flinging yourself in a blind rage, you rain down every hit, every elbow blow, and every kick to his ribs, groin, throat, and everything else you can reach. He grunts, bearing it and eating every hit while remaining on his feet, even when he feels like buckling. You don't seem to realize he isn't blocking.

"Now tell me how weak I am."

"YOU'RE WEAK," you growl, swinging fists, feral with rage.

"I feel it," he growls, tensing his abs and gritting his teeth while you punch the same place you just stabbed. "That hate brewing deep for me every time you swing. When you look at me," he pauses, wondering if you've figured it out. "More."

You keep hitting that same spot. It hurts, but it ain't enough, and it won't be enough until you find some strength to hit harder.

"These princess ass punches. Reminds me of my cousin, slumped in the river like some Sleeping Beauty."

"BASTARD."

You shove him back, smashing his face as you drive your knuckles into his jaw. You were aiming for his nose, but he made a mistake and turned on reflex.

"That's it? You hit like the pillow princess you are. Maybe yo nigga dived on purpose, bored of that stiff ass pussy."

You put every ounce in your body into punching through dense muscle and bone, spurred on by his heavy grunts, and he finally bleeds from the inside of his mouth, giving you a feeling of catharsis. You need more.

"I'm all you got now," he groans, shaking his head. "You gone learn. You're Queen because I allow it! You're beholden to ME!"

He hasn't been blocking. GOOD. He needs his ass beat. You've been beating it nonstop.

"I'm Queen because I married a REAL King," you pant, your head back as you grab your hips to catch your breath. "I will REMAIN Queen when I send you to answer to Kings past!"

"Shit, I'm not worried. You can't even break a simple hold." He spits the blood. "Killing me? Impossible."

"You can ramble to your heart's content as they kick your ass across the ancestral plane."

He snorts.

"So kill me then! Whatever the fuck you think you bout to do. DO IT NOW."

The adrenaline coursing makes you feel that you can break through his body if you channel all your hate and pent-up rage, all your grief, all your stress.

"MORE," he barks, his eyes deranged and begging for your worst.

Blood drips from his mouth. He spits again like it's nothing, wiping his chin.

"THAT'S IT? THAT'S ALL YOU GOT?"

You give it and then some, putting him on his knees and audibly cracking him across the jaw. He licks his lips, puckering in a quick kiss.

You're winded. Your hands are bruised and bleeding. The adrenaline is wearing off, and your whole body is stressed.

"I KNOW you ain't tired! You gone KILL me right? I'M RIGHT HERE!" Arms out on his knees, he challenges. "KILL ME."

Your eyes go to the machete he's dropped on the floor, and he reads your mind, smirking. You scramble for the machete as he gets up.

"C'MON!"

Slashing through his bare chest twice in a narrow X, you back him up a bit. He's circling you like an animal trying to find a weak entry point. You keep your eyes trained on his.

Swinging another three times, he dodges like you're both in a boxing ring. You swing again, slashing across his stomach. Instead of backing up, he's walks into it, purposefully cutting his hand in the process of prying the machete from yours for the second time in a night.

"I'll say it again, sweetheart," he squints. "I'm not going anywhere, no time soon. AND... I'm all you have at this point in time."

The machete spins in his cut hand as his tongue rests on his canine, tasting blood.

"Then I have nothing, but I'll gain much through your death."

You throw another jab, but he catches it and redirects you to the floor, having gone far enough to prove his point to you.

"My turn."

He knows your efforts are hopeless, but you gotta know it.

"What are YOU gonna do?" You glare up at him, cocky and stubborn. "I'll only keep coming," you rant. You continue until he bends and delivers a long and slow shallow cut across your thigh through your black pants.

"Hm." He licks at the blood on the machete, intrigued. "You look disgusted... I can be real disgusting. Shall I show you?"

"AIDA," you yell. That fear is what he wanted. More adrenaline coursing through your body.

"Something about having you trapped with a knife in my hand and you at my mercy," he smirks, "It does it for me... You look terrified."

"AI-," you stop mid-word as the blade starts to press into your skin, drawing more droplets to the surface..

"Aida ain't coming for you. Nobody coming for you... What? You thought it was your idea to replace the Dora? Nah, Queen."

He only told you that to make you comply. He'd always planned to replace and eventually get rid of them completely.

"You lost to me the second you decided to survive. Slowly, I'll CONTINUE to replace everyone who ever THOUGHT of being loyal to you. You gone learn. I'M all you got and if I gotta carve you up to teach you that, I will."

As he expected, you run to the door, trying the handle, pulling, banging, trying to escape.

"I told you. They don't answer to you."

Poor lil girl, trapped with the big bad man. What will you do?

You run, staying on the edge of the room, your frightened eyes on the machete slicing through air in his grasp.

"You've run as far as you can go. Now yield... Or don't," he shrugs. "It's fun for me either way."

Slashing the machete through the air, an evil giddiness erupts from him as you hole up in a corner like a rat caged.

"Call me weak."

You're silent.

"Say it."

Trailing his fingers over the sharp blade, he waits for the word that will be his green light.

"Say it," he dares once more. "I want nothing more in this moment than to fuck you raw in a puddle of blood with you covered in my cum and me by that sweet, sweet honey. Come to me," he stops, a mere six feet from you. "I won't kill you. I swear. Just rough you up a bit."

You stare from your fearful ball, bewildered and in shock.

"No? You want me to come get you?"

That thought terrifies you more.

He tosses the machete now that you see your position.

"I can do anything to you at this moment. Take anything I desire, and no one will help you. Just like no one helped me. Just like no one helped T'Challa. When will you see I'm all you got in this world? I'm not your enemy."

Confused, you don't move. He takes a step back and waits, extending his hand once you see he doesn't plan to move.

"Truce?"

You hesitate at you're at wit's end with his manipulations and your conflicting impulses. Emotionally and psychologically, you're adrift from any stable point of being.

You take his hand.

He guides you forward, but you aren't processing. You've stopped minutes ago.

"I can't," you cry, hitting him as he stands there, taking it. "You killed T'Challa. I can't feel anything but hate for the man who murdered my husband!"

"Look, LOOK." He captures your flailing arms holding them tightly at your sides. "Listen. I sincerely mean it when I say FUCK your husband. Fuck your guilt! He's gone! You're here!"

"You INSUFFERABLE, VULGAR-"

"Stop, I'm not done. I can make the confusion stop. I can make you stop thinking. I can make you turn it all off, all of it if you say one word," he whispers, seeking a deal in trade for your soul.

"You've been disrespectful from the start, not saying my name even once. I wanna hear you say it."

"Killmonger. That's what you are, no more than a U.S. tool."

"Nope. Try again."

"Orphan. Go to hell."

He takes a deep sigh.

"That's not my name, sweetheart."

His voice is sultry, his grip strong on your arms as if it's holding the shattered peices together.

"Mm," you hum, looking away. You can't let your mind go there. You felt the same way on the airship just looking at him. It's shameful.

"Look at me," he releases your arms to hold your chin up, forcing eye contact. His touch immediately softens. "One word."

"No," you whisper. Before you can stop yourself, your fingers dig into his locks. Your lips are pressed against his. Your nails claw his scalp, sliding gently down his beard, his broad neck and shoulders, his large muscled arms, his scarred and textured chest. Your breathing is erratic as you moan with desperation.

Wordlessly, he lifts you and lays you back on the infirmary bed. Never breaking your kiss, he climbs on top and knees your legs apart, leaning between, his dick print pressed against your thigh. Your frantic hands roam and grasp at his perfectly built body, warm and weighted like a blanket, while his erection grows and grinds subtly on your hip.

That familiar clean scent of shea butter radiates from your smooth and supple skin mixed with the metallic air of sweat and blood. His own blood is smearing onto your body, and yours is concentrated at your neck.

Like the machete, the tip of his tongue fondles your collarbone, tasting blood from your skin. It's followed by a gentle suck.

You quickly remove your black shirt, pulling him back in, and his lips trail the bare skin of your breast over your bra cup. His wandering fingers slide under your pants and over your thin panties, feeling the moist heat seal an outline of your lips.

"Show me how wet you can get."

He nibbles your jaw, your breathing and the heartbeat against his hand doing all the communicating.

The breath on your neck combines with the brush of his beard and travels through the cells of your skin, lighting every erogenous zone. You push at his pants and underwear, pushing it down past his perfect ass as you try to pull him so close he slides inside.

You want the dick. You want the dick. You need the dick.

"Say my name."

Your back lifts off the bed as your hips grind independently of you. Your body craves every touch and trembles needily at pleasure.

"I really do hate you to my core... N'Jadaka."

He bites your shoulder. You bite your lip, lifting your hips for him to take your pants and your panties at once, your eyes on his.

"You sure?"

He slides in before you answer, licking his lips when you gasp and clutch his ass, pulling him deeper. You can take it and you need it. Taking your cue, he raises your calves and pushes your knees back, getting deeper. Short, slow strokes with the dick deep inside, pushing you back. You hold onto your knees as you look down, trying to see. You missed this dick. Every 4 or 5 strokes, he'll go long and push it back in, letting you feel every delicious inch.

"Say my name."

"N'Jadaka," your face scrunches, matching the pulsation that you're unintentionally doing on his shaft. You grip him on purpose this time, finding a squeeze and release method to match his speed. He's lost in it, moving like he's possessed, his eyes rolling. He keeps going.

"Fuck," you mutter, concentrating on your orgasm thats building.

"I feel you. I feel you, let go."

He doesn't have to tell you, you hold onto him as you cum, not wanting him to stop. He doesn't.

"Ooh, Erik," you moan, clawing his back. "Ooh.. ooh.. right there, don't stop."

Your legs shake as he pulls out slowly to just the tip and pushes all the way back in just as you cum. Your legs lock around his hips, your body is trembling.

He waits for your legs to release just a bit.

Eventually, he pulls back again, leaving an inch inside of you as he brings your ass closer and holds your legs up by the ankles. You moan and whimper, taking every bit of his sweet assault, your legs now against his shoulders.

Coming once more, you find yourself on top, riding fast with both hands fisting his locs. You grind forward in small circles, feeling his hands assist by lifting you when you move.

"Watch out," he warns, lifting you completely off as he cums, cream spurting on the infirmary bed. You grab his dick and stroke until it spits again.

"No," he shuts you down when you try to put it back inside of you, cum-coated and all. "Sit on my face instead."

You do without pause, grinding the same as you would on his dick with his slick tongue reaching and flicking strategically. He grips your ass, spreading your lips more in the process and sucks on your clit gently, alternating with licks until you come again and sigh, falling to the bed and rolling off of his face.

"Mm," you moan, feeling satiated. You lay on your side with your back against his side.

He rubs slow, wide, firm circles from your lower back to your shoulders and the base of your neck. As good as it feels, you still haven't processed half of what's happened. The whole moment seems surreal, like you weren't even thinking. You were moving solely on instinct.

You still hate him. That hasn't changed, but the sex...

"UH," you exhale. "I'll probably regret this in the morning. You'll use it against me somehow, and I won't be able to look at the Dora when I- Hm."

You wrap your fingers over his thicker ones briefly as he grasps your neck, pulling your head back close enough for him to whisper, "Shut up," in your ear. "You talk too much... I'm a use it, but damn. You'll survive. It's what we do."

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

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Running from the Flames {17}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, fluff, panic attack - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven* || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || Fifteen || Sixteen || Seventeen || Eighteen || under construction

Ilies was kind enough to take Pierre, Addie and I to the airport early on Monday morning. Pierre had put his Audi on one of the car transporters heading to Alpine’s mechanical headquarters in Paris and he would pick it up from there later in the week when he returned for some training. With the next race being in Canada there was a two week break so he was going to spend a few days in London with us as long as he kept up his fitness routine.

I was apparently the one in charge of making sure that happened but his personal trainer might have been shocked to hear that my idea of exercise involved us tangled in bedsheets. I kept that to myself of course and just agreed. As long as I got to watch while Pierre worked out in my home gym then it was a win-win to me.

“Thanks for the lift, Granny,” I said as I kissed her cheeks after boarding the private jet.

“It’s on the way to New York so it’s no hassle, honey. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Fashion Week with me?”

I grimaced at the idea. “And have you try to use me as a model again, no thanks.”

“What?” she asked innocently as she buckled up into her seat. “You’ve got the legs for it.”

“She’s not wrong,” Pierre whispered in my ear. “They are very sexy.”

I elbowed him lightly but he just laughed it off and I continued on my way down the aisle. Two rows down I found dad, who was half asleep, and heading home to see mum. I sat Addie into the seat beside him and buckled her in before setting up her latest animated fixation, Mulan, on the screen in front of her.

“Let mummy know if you need to go to the loo,” I reminded her before pulling the earphones over her head.

There was no reason to be all sat together so I passed the last two rows before sitting down. There was only the galley behind us but since the flight was a little over two hours I doubted anyone would ask for refreshments and we would be left alone.

“Are you okay?” I asked as we hit some turbulence coming into Heathrow and Pierre clutched the armrest between us. His eyes were closed and his lips pressed in a firm line as he nodded his head. He had been uneasy since takeoff but repeatedly lied and said he was fine. “You couldn’t have picked a sport with more travel if you tried.”

“I’m fine with flying…until it gets bumpy.” He let me pull his hand from the leather material and replaced it with my own as we watched the GPS of the plane inching closer to the airport.

“Miss Vowles, Mr Gasly, if you could please fill these out before we land that would be wonderful,” the stewardess said as she handed me three Passenger Locator Forms before moving on to dad.

I filled out mine and Addie’s while Pierre did his but he took a little longer since he wasn’t a UK Citizen like us and had more pages to complete. I actually had dual citizenship through the ‘grandfather scheme’ which meant I was entitled to apply for citizenship where my parents and grandparents were citizens. Legally, I could hold a passport of Mexico, the USA and the United Kingdom but I preferred to use my UK one since it had the least restrictions.

If Erik ever tried to petition for access to Addie and won, then she could have all three passports and a Norwegian one too.

The thought turned my mood sour and as we touched down on British soil I began to rue my decision to come back. I knew I needed to be here to pack up the house for the move and visit Dr Pascoe in person but there was always a little storm cloud in the back of my mind when I was in London.

The city was tainted of memories with Erik, the restaurants we had eaten at, the cinemas we have gone to. I couldn’t even drive near Islington because that was where our house had been. Just thinking about it had the walls of the plane closing in around me and I reached for the paper bag in the storage pocket.

The paper crinkled in and out with each breath, the speed too fast for any rational thought and shadows moved around me until two faces came into focus.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” dad said but it was hard to catch the slippery words as my head swam. “Deep breath, in through your nose. Do it with me.” I tried to copy him but my intake was as shaky as my hands. “Good girl, now out through your mouth, nice and slow.”

My clothes felt too tight and my hair clung to my clammy forehead and I tried to brush it away but my hands were shaking too much. The strands of hair remained and I grew frustrated.

“I’ve got it, Bri, just focus on breathing,” Pierre said as he brushed it back for me. A cool damp cloth came to rest on my forehead and I closed my eyes as I leant back in the seat. “Mama’s alright, princesse.”

My eyes flashed open to see Addie looking afraid and I opened my arms for her. “Mummy was just a little overwhelmed, sweetie, I’m sorry it scared you.”

“Was it a bad dream again?” she asked as she clung tight to me.

“Kind of. You know, I could do with your help.” She perked up at the idea of helping and listened intently. “We have no food at home, so I need you to choose where we will have brunch. You don’t have to tell me now, but why don’t you hop back in your seat and have a think about it while we land.”

“Come on, little bug,” dad guided her away, his own worried stare looking back at me as he went.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Pierre asked when we were alone but I shook my head.

“No, I just want to erase the memories of this place.” I tipped my head onto his shoulder and looked up at him. “Tell me that it’s possible.”

He kissed my forehead and I cringed as I realised I was a sweaty mess but he didn’t seem to care as he wrapped an arm around me. “I don’t know about erasing them, but we can make new ones instead.”

–

We landed without a fuss and while we were taxiing to the terminal we started to say our goodbyes before we would part ways. Dad was already out of his seat, ignoring the seatbelt sign, and kneeling next to Granny having quiet words with each other before they both looked at me with concern.

Dad rose to his feet and let Addie climb up for a hug, a bright smile deepening the wrinkles at the corners of Granny’s eyes. “I’m going to miss you, honey. You let me know if you want to come visit alright? We’ll get rid of that posh accent in no time.”

“Don’t want you to go, Granny,” she replied with a trembling lip.

Betty sniffled and blinked away the tears that quickly built along her waterline. “You’re going to make me ruin my makeup.”

“You’d still look beautiful,” I said as I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for the visit and the ride.”

“Of course, you’re welcome to use it whenever you need, especially trying to juggle work, motherhood and a long distance relationship,” she said looking between Pierre and I. “Take all the help you can get to make it work.”

Pierre’s hand took mine and gave it a squeeze while I answered through my widening smile. “I might take you up on that.”

The Gulfstream had come to a stop and I saw two cars parked outside the little window as the stewardess opened the door. Dad would take one to the domestic terminal for his next flight to Manchester while we would be in the other heading home to Twickenham.

“Oh, and Damien, give my love to Otmar when you see him,” Granny said with a fond smile for the man she thought of as the second child she never had. “I’ll see you in Italy, unless I decide to pop by before that. Never know when I might need a holiday at my age.”

“Mom, you’re retired.”

She scoffed and waved him off. “I retired from designing but I still own the company, dear. I can’t trust anyone else to run it right, unless it’s family.” Her eyes darted to me and I held my hands up.

“Don’t finish that thought, Granny, I’m an engineer - I like tinkering with mechanics and engines.”

“I’ve heard Pierre’s a man of fashion and business or so the internet tells me. You could always marry him. Just an idea, honey.” She sent me a wink and I stumbled over my feet, nearly sending myself out down the steps. “Take care of my precious babies, Mr Gasly.”

“Nothing would make me happier,” he replied with such sincerity that I missed the step in front of me and his hand shot out, catching my arm and pulling me back. “Was that a test?”

“No,” I sighed and blew a strand of hair out of my face with a huff. “That's just how clumsy I am. Let’s go before I break my neck and never get to walk down the aisle Granny’s busy daydreaming about now.”

“I’ve had the design of your wedding dress waiting since you were 18. You tell me when to start sewing it.”

“Bye Granny, bye Matthew!” I concentrated on walking down the stairs with an amused Pierre behind me carrying Addie and dad coming down last.

“Your mother said she’s blocked out her calendar for Wednesday if you can come to dinner.”

I looked at Pierre since he was meant to be flying to Paris on Thursday morning and Addie and I would be flying into Rouen to meet him on Saturday. “It’s a four hour drive.”

“It shouldn’t be difficult to change my flight to leave from Manchester instead, if you want to stay the night?”

I nodded to dad, “it’s a tentative yes but I’ll let you know once he’s checked the flights. Addie say bye-byes to grandad.”

Our farewells were far quicker and our luggage had already been put into the cars by the time we were finished and going our own separate ways. I would have preferred to have my own car but it was at home after getting a cab to the airport when we left two weeks ago but thankfully it wasn’t peak rush hour and it wasn’t too far to get home.

“Addie, have you decided where you want to eat?”

“The dog park!”

Pierre looked aghast as he spun in his passenger seat at the front and I laughed at the face he pulled. “It’s just a cafe that happens to be on the same block as a dog park. It’s called Ivy and she knows it too,” I said as I tickled Addie’s toes for being a little trickster. “It’s just around the corner from our house so we can drop the bags off first and walk.”

He relaxed back into his seat knowing he wasn’t going to be eating in a dog park and I scoured the inside pockets of my handbag until I found my keys. I gripped the remote to the front gate as the driver pulled onto our street and suddenly had a new fear - had I tidied the house before we left? No. The answer was, no. I had been running around like a madwoman trying to get Addie ready so I decided the toys on the floor and unfolded washing on the couch could wait for my return.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath and Pierre’s eyes shot to me through the little mirror on his sun visor, his eyebrow cocked in a silent question. “My house is a fucking mess.”

Click here for chapter eighteen.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @anotheroneiforgot

#pierre gasly x poc!oc #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly x oc #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #running from the flames

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athousandotherfaces · 20 days

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kynesgrove, morthal, and markarth for the skyrim asks!

Thank you for the ask! Heads up, I've thought about some of these things for the better part of a decade so there's rambling. Enjoy the scroll!

Kynesgrove: What's your favorite non-major city/town/settlement?

Rorikstead! I think that it has such an intriguing position and a narrative that isn't explicitly explored; it's just hinted at through ambient elements and some PC/ NPC dialogue. I really love that it feels cozy, but slightly unsettling if you stop and think about it.

There's the lack of almost any grown women among the residents, aside from one elvish woman in town. It's positioned close to two known Forsworn camps/strongholds (Serpent's Bluff Redoubt and Bleakwind Bluff respectively) Which, hey, yes they could've popped up after the town was established. (which is another strange point of interest: Rorik lives in town and says he founded it: but it's also mentioned as having been founded literal ages ago in written records) The residents mention they haven't had a bad harvest in years. Years, despite war, hardly any work force to harvest things and being easily open to raids from bandits, Forsworn, what have you. Jouane, the healer, has several books on daedric worship in his home, and has an ambient dialogue with one of the young girls not to tell anyone about their 'little secret' when she asks if he can teach her magic. These facts taken together make me think there's a deal between the townsfolk of Rorikstead and the Forsworn that entails ladies of a certain age be sacrificed to ensure these unfailing harvests. Given it's location Rorikstead is isolated from a lot of the protections of Whiterun Hold and it's mentioned by some of the NPCs- they're essentially on their own. It's also pretty close to a dragon burial mound and a vampire den. Which I think is also meant to further highlight that the village is basically left to fed for itself (without much scrutiny) because it is so far from Whiterun. Dialogue from guards even mentions that Rorikstead is more susceptible to a dragon attack because of its location, low martial population and lack of defensible space. All this, plus you can find Erik the Slayer, probably my favorite follower here: Visit Rorikstead!

Morthal-Do you enjoy exploring dungeons and ruins? Why or why not?

I do! I've done so many different dragonborn builds that each time I do dungeon diving it feels fun. Now that's not to say I don't find it repetitive after a bit. I've played plenty of hours of Skyrim and Dragon age 2 (a game not gracefully noted for diverse dungeon maps); I really think, and this isn't to let things off the hook, but as a rpg fan you gotta make your own fun after a bit. I will say some ruins are more engaging than others and some feel like they are meant to break you of the impulse to get in and out quickly, while others are more of a see-if-you can-outlast atmosphere (I'm looking at Forelhost, Labyrinthian, and several Dwemer ruins). I'm a huge fan of the set dressing and narrative elements the dungeons and ruins have. I also really enjoy using followers. I have my go to followers but I do try to swap in new faces too, both vanilla and mod added followers.

Markarth-If you could rewrite one questline in Skyrim, which would it be?

Ooh, that's a tough one. Really tough.

I think if I had to pick one I would say it would be more of an additional pathway instead of a complete rewrite. But I thought for the longest time that if a few choices were made throughout the Dark Brotherhood and Thieves Guild questlines that there should be a hybridized questline added for a dragonborn who becomes Listener for the Brotherhood and Guildmaster for the Thieves Guild that deals with Maven Black-Briar & her hold on the DB & Thieves Guild after you get into the top spots.

If I remember correctly you can in both questlines tell or hint to Maven Black-Briar/her loyalists that your cooperation as her pawn as you go up the ranks is wearing thin/will cease once you're in sufficiently with the groups and they're restored to their proper glory. I would really love for there to have been an attempt by Maven (especially if she's made jarl through the civil war questline) to try to have you framed for a major political crime or just outright attempt to have you assassinated by the Morag Tong (or just frame the Morag Tong since they're not friendly to the DB and it could easily lead to inter-assassin guild fighting allowing Maven to attempt to take them down in a bid to extend her reach and consolidate power). Maven just never struck me as someone who tolerated the idea of power being wrested away from her, or just the appearance of losing grip on power like the guilds command. So some upstart dragonborn suggesting they'll be doing just that felt like it should have a pretty strong response from her.

#Skyrim #thanks for the ask!#@naturalbornlosers

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melanieph321 · 1 year

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Super Sancho (Part 1)

Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to Super Sancho!!!!

Summary - A 10 part series where we follow Jadon Sancho on his journey to the Netherlands in hopes of improving his football performance.

Enjoy!

Ten Hag gave him two choices, either he'd go to the Netherlands and improved what he lacked, or get ready to get transferred during the next window. Jadon chose the latter, but only because he knew that he hadn't really proven himself in Manchester. Instead of letting his teammates down further he decided that it was better to leave.

"Ladies and gentlemen this is you captain speaking..." Jadon woke up to the dimmed light zipping through his passenger window. "...we'll soon be approaching Amsterdam. Please return to your seats, fastened your seatbelts and prepare for landing. And Thank you for flying Birtish Airways."

Although it had only been a nintey minute flight from Manchester to Amsterdam, Jadon found himself exhausted from the journey. He looked forward to a hot shower once he arrived at his hotel.

"Mr Sancho?"

Someone called his name in the arrivals pit. It was a woman, wearing a suit and tie and holding up a sign with his name written on it. A smile baruaden her lips as Jadon approached her.

"Hello Mr Sancho, I'm Emily. I'll be taking you to the Ajax training grounds where you'll get settled in."

"We're headed for the training grounds right away?" Jadon asked, the fatigue from the planeride still weighing heavily on his eyelids.

"Well yes of course." Emily said. She didn't hesitate to take his bag, leading Jadon towards a black Volkswagen Transporter.

"Have you ever been to the Netherlands before?" She asked as they left the airport and took to the highway.

"No." Jadon muttered. Outside his window he approached a city he had never stepped foot in, a country he never thought he'd visit without a whole team accompanying him. The feeling was uneasy, just like it had been when he first arrived at Dortmund. Surprisingly, arriving at Manchester had been different. He knew Manchester. English football had been his youth. English football was his life and his home where he had friends and family. How could it all have gone to shit when the feeling had been so great when he first arrived to the team? He was supposed to do great in Manchester, Jadon thought.

"Well you'll love it here." Emily said, keeping her eyes steady on the road.

It had only been a twenty minute drive from the airport to the Ajax training grounds. It was a nice facility, not as nice as Manchester Uniteds, but still impressive.

"You can take your luggage with you to your room..." Nice, Jadon thought. He'd finally be able to catch up on some sleep. "...There you can change into a suitable fitness for the test that you'll undergo in the teams medical center."

"Undergo what, in the what?" Jadon said, quite dumbfounded.

Emily nodded assuringly. "The coaches are ready for you once you've changed."

"But...sleep." He muttered, however the reality seemed to be that Ten Hag really hadn't sent him on a vacation if that's what he thought. After undergoing several fitness procedures and check ups, Jadon were to speak with an Ajax assistant coach about his newfound struggles.

"Well Mr Sancho. All I can recommend is that you work closely with your foster coach and really tell him about the areas you think you lack in."

"My foster what?" Jadon frowned. "I thought you would be my new coach."

"Who me?" The man laughed. Like Ten Hag he was balled. Middle-aged and balled. They even shared the same dry sense of humor, Jadon thought.

"I'm afraid Erik was right when he said that you were a special case that needed special attention and treatment."

"Special attention?" Jadon exclaimed. Did Ten Hag think that he was disabled or something. No, Jadon wouldn't stand for it. He had not come all this way to be told he needed special treatment and attention by some foster coach. What is a foster coach anyway?

"Yes, special attention. Hendrik loves cases like yours."

"Henrik?" Jadon frowned. In that moment he really felt confused and crazy. Perhaps he was in need of some special attention?

"Yes, Hendrik. I'll send him your data the test you underwent here today. I'll send them right away. Hendrik will have gone through them by the time you get to Ursem tomorrow morning."

"Ursem? Tomorrow morning? Wait, I'm leaving again? I thought I was supposed to stay here?"

"At Ajax?" The coach frowned. He shook his head looking almost frightened. "We don't deal with special cases here. Didn't Erik tell you that?"

"He didn’t tell me anything."

"Well good luck to you then. The training camp in Ursem is very special, not for the faint-hearted. But I'm sure you'll do fine."

Jadon could only bat his eyes in astonishment. Everything the assistant coach was telling him seemed to be true. He wasn't to stay with AFC Ajax and train with their under 21 team which he initially thought was Ten Hag's intentions. No, Jadon was to be put on a bus and shipped off to another camp. This place called Ursem. Where a coach with experience of coaching ballers with special needs lived.

"What a disaster." Jadon thought, as he slumped down in his seat, surrendering to the movement of the bus that would take him even further away from home, further away from Manchester United.

#fanfiction #jadon sancho #manchester united #manchester utd #afc ajax #erik ten hag #supersancho

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simonsmandarine · 2 months

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starting my last-minute young royals rewatch before s3 LET'S GO

choir scene my beloved

wille looks so small standing in the middle of the corridor :(((

i love how simon's first scene (other than the choir) starts with a close up of his middle finger keychain

poor sara but she's so perceptive

to THAT picture??? wille looks so miserable felice stand UP

girl...... your hand

felice skipping dinner

simon jumping in immediately so linda doesn't worry as much about sara's integration at school

why does alexander have to go knock on everyone's door do they not have alarms

why are we ranking crimes

the liberal bullshit at the classroom makes me so mad like i'm sure your parents struggle a lot henry

THANK YOU SIMON

wille really isn't used to people challenging the ideals he grew up being exposed to

THEIR FIRST PROPER INTERACTION IS SO PERFECT

hillerska is so pretty tho i kinda wanna study there

im gonna be honest the first time i watched ep 1 i thought salice was gonna happen

you can't convince me simon didn't say he had to go just to see if wille would follow

wille probably had the song stuck in his head ever since he heard it

his sigh while he says simon's singing was beautiful oh wille you never stood a chance

WHAT A GREAT ENDING TO A GREAT PILOT

ok ep 2 let's go

this tradition is so dumb "9 out of 10" stfu

the brief eye contact SNANDJ

hello cool wille

fredrika is like "i could fix him"

the bro tap NSNXJSJX simon was NOT expecting that

poor simon bless ayub and rosh but there's nothing wrong with wanting to leave the small city

august really thought wille was jerking off and STILL waltzed into the room and took his phone

simon still tries to be included and the others just ignore him

at least now wille is coming to the rescue

august did NOT think this psychologist visit through he's just used to getting everything his way

i really wanted to see how wille and simon got in the same table to study

wille was so sad that simon wasn't coming to practice lmaoo

oh felice that's not why he was smiling at you

fuck you august

so convincing wille you're doing great

why do you have to download an app to use the bus

wille was like i'm just like youuu you're just like meeee

like bby no

he's holding the hot dog so elegantly

ayub's little nudge gets me everytime

simon is so giddy i can't

way to start a conversation august

simon and his unspecified citrus fruit

ok but are the rest of the boys taking august seriously rn 😭😭😭

oh shit it's movie time already

wilmon seating next to each other once again

also stedrika cuddling the same way the straight couple next to them is

i always hold my breath during this scene

the way wille LOOKS at simon

simon is so scared he read this all wrong

but it just took him a bit longer to realize he wants it too

another rude ending

EPISODE 3

MUSIC ROOM SCENE

i need to know what simon was going to say

aw i love sara and felice together

the way wille LOOKS at simon pt 100

so much happened in just 10 minutes wtf this show's pacing is insane

why is august so involved in parents day

they were so happy looking forward to their weekend alone :((

smysan hasn't seen her daughter in months and one of the first things she asks her is wilhelm

"glances and stuff" me when i'm delusional

this mf did this on purpose

wille is so flustered stopp

the close up on the phone. ouch.

the way smysan immediately turned her head towards felice lmaooo

i mean it's very easy to misinterpret that wille ajnxjdj

this simon with s2e6 wille

boyfriends who beat up august together

felice wtf STAND UP

him ignoring the phone call......

why was wille the last one to know they shouldn't have let the news come out until after the whole family knew the royal family must have the power to do that

and why is he learning that THROUGH THE PHONE

episode 4 now

it's so cruel how the last thing erik said to wille was see you soon

the "broken" title card....

this show does transitions so well

he kinda looks like he did in ep 1 when he was left alone in the corridor

them sitting on opposite sides with all the empty space between them. simon facing him but wille facing forward. never even looking at simon.

malin my wife

simon always taking care of everyone

he looks so defeated poor bby but so done too

this scene 💀

not august putting felices hand back up i never noticed that

he's so insuferable godddd

"was it royal" LMFAOOO

i do love salice as friends sm

august you are RIDICULOUS "dump him" exactly

wille completely ignoring simon

sara's expression sends me ajjdjdjsjjx it's the right reaction to have

why do people with old money act like that "The Society" yall are silly

terrible terrible way of coping

how did he walk all the way to bjarstad

I REALLY LIKE YOU

and then they walked all the way back to hillerska that's crazy

can i just say i love it's wille that's going down on simon

...... well

why would he do that??? was he planning on saving it for blackmail material or smth or was it just for shits and giggles

alright episode 5

their golden morning 🥺

i like to think that simon forced wille to shower and brush his teeth for my own sanity

simon being the one being cared for for once :((

fish scene my BELOVED

girl solidarity we love to see it

i understand wille was just trying to talk to simon and wasn't gonna say he had to blame him for the drugs but the way he went about it was awful simon had every right to snap and walk away

many people say it's weird that august keeps watching the video but i think it's just bc he knows the power it holds and he can't quite believe it

this song makes me feel a little bit unwell, it's not even one of my favorite uses of music on the show but the song itself is so fucking GOOD

yes stand your ground felice

i recognize that wille is being so vulnerable here and that's not easy and simon can see that BUT come on if you had blamed simon it would've ruined his life it's not just a matter of you not wanting to loose him

the lyrics to samurai swords :(((

sara looks so beautiful

this is betrayal from simon too like he didn't even tell sara he had visited micke MULTIPLE TIMES

FUCK

they're fucked

oof. episode 6 now

i LOVE the way it starts

even the little kid knows who simon is

yeah kristina i don't think that's what wille needs to hear rn

im sorry but wanting sara to go back to marieberg is beyond cruel if the bullying she had to endure there was so bad she had to repeat a year

simon also did made a sacrifice going to hillerska for sara

ok that was quite insensitive sara

they're literally wearing the colors of the swedish flag.......

ohhh the beginning of sargust i don't necessarily ship them but i think they're so interesting

i love this scene sm i mean it's painful but it's so good omar and frida are so GOOD

i think even here simon doesn't quite believe wille will do it but he wants to believe it so bad

"what if i just want to be with him" STOP

but like. ofc he wasn't gonna say it was him he's just a kid and he is under so much pressure

but it's heartbreaking bc he told simon he would and now he just left him to deal with everything by himself

"i have chosen not to get involved in any emotional relationships" that's the worst part

that's why the other students are so shocked in s3 bc after this statement they didn't think simon and wille had anything serious

but like. wille really thought he could go back on his word and then simon would be ok w it and everything could stay the way it was

like simon said, he just expects everything to be on his terms

he probably got that from his mom

wille breaking his promise wasn't even strike 1 or 2 this has been pilling up and simon's been giving wille many chances and has always taken him back

i'm so glad he stood his ground

and he didn't pressure wille into coming out or anything everything he said was very reasonable

another great scene GOD edvin is so good

wille is completely alone

FALLING WE ARE FALLING NOW WORDS WRITTEN DOWN THEY ARE FALLING NOW

AND THE LIES THEY WILL HURT YOU NO MORE HUMAN KINDNESS DESERT YOU NO MORE

CITYS ON FIRE BUT ITS BEAUTIFUL CITYS ON FIRE WONT YOU BURN IT ALL

my favorite 4th wall break fr

REVOLUTIONNNNN

this episode is such a rollercoaster it might be my favorite from s1

#i have so much uni work due this week rip but i needed to watch it one more time 🙏#gonna watch s2 a bit later #lipa rambles

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cliqfeed · 3 months

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#NHL #OttawaSenators #PittsburghPenguins #SanJoseSharks

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jfbuckley · 8 months

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Saturday 19 August 2023.

I’m very much afraid that “a certain point has been reached”. The consensus of the fans on MUFC oriented social media has definitely turned against Ten Hag. He had his honeymoon season last season, but the fans are not happy to see the same mistakes being made despite new players in the side. Principally they are alarmed at seeing the squad so seemingly unfit and slow. Poor Mount seems to be copping an awful lot of stick, but it is only his second game. I don’t like any of this, but social media and Ferguson’s years of success (not to mention the rise of city) has bred a generation of fans who demand instant gratification. I’m in favour of giving Ten Hag the time he needs, but those voices of dissent are not quiet or muted anymore, and will rapidly grow louder and more widespread if there are more performances like the first two this season. I think Ten Hag has got to very soon start getting some good performances out of this team, otherwise it will soon start getting ugly.

Anyway, my football correspondent watched the match at the social club, and here are his considered thoughts. Apologies for being a day or two late.

——

hi - 12 months ago erik ten hag hardly had his feet under the table as the new season began - united played poorly at home in losing the season opener and then were well beaten in london - a year on and what's changed ? not much you might think

personnel wise de gea has been replaced by onana, wan bissaka played instead of dalot, maguire and mctominay are out of favour and might leave, fred has gone whilst antony and garnacho were in for sancho and eriksen - the constants were shaw, martinez, fernandes and rashford

united started pretty well against spurs - rashford was denied by the goalie and fernandes squandered a free header in front of goal - united might have been awarded a penalty but ref oliver said no - after the lucky break against wolves united could hardly complain - anyway united did not score and spurs worked their way into the game - they hit the bar and as united tried to recover a cross was deflected onto the post by shaw - half time came with no score

spurs pressed early in the 2nd half and united allowed kulusevski to get behind the united left and head for the byline - his cross from inside the area was deflected for the onrushing sarr to fire in

united almost equalised a couple of minutes later when antony was put in on the right but his trademark left footed effort bounced back off the post - casemiro had a header well saved - with 10 minutes to go a cross into the united area was miskicked by davis - it dribbled to martinez who miseed with his left foot, the ball then deflecting off his standing right foot into the corner of goal

so another sluggish start by united - they do not look match fit or physically strong - the midfield seems weak - they lack a reliable scorer - they started this match ok but could not maintain control and faded away

if fernandes had scored with his free header it might have been a different story - but he didn't and it wasn't - in fact it was the same old story from last season - a defeat away from home to a decent side

ten hag played an unchanged team against spurs - i shall be very surprised if he doesn't make 3 or 4 changes for the visit of forest next saturday

bye

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smallragdoll · 2 years

Text

Background stories for my animal crossing new horizons villagers:

Goldie: an old lady looking to settle in and just live a peaceful little life. She originally came to visit but quickly decided to stay as the island was coming together and new houses and shops were being built.

Freckles: very fickle and extremely independent young duck. She decided her small pond life was too boring and she wanted a taste of adventure so she started a new life. Leaving her family behind is a touchy subject

Muffy: Actually no one knows why she’s here. Very nice lady but she doesn’t talk at all about herself and instead likes to just sew and make little gifts for other people. She laughs the hardest at Pietro’s jokes

Pietro: Was a traveling (and failing) comic who decided to stay after realizing he’d rather stay with his new friends instead of going to struggle in the big city. He’s not very used to the slow island life despite having a habit of being lazy but that’s ok, he likes to crack jokes and keep things lively.

Petri: THIS BITCH CRAZY. Evil mad scientist woman who is clearly unhinged yet everyone is oblivious to it. Came to this island to conduct experiments away from the government and rarely comes out of her house or down from the hill it sits on. Is that blood on her coat?

Carmen: Typical cutesy and out of touch rich girl. Her parents built her home on the island as a gift and though she can be a bit ignorant her heart is still genuine. LOVES to buy gifts for others no matter how gaudy it is. She also loves to sing and is trying to nepo baby her way into a record deal

Erik: A newcomer to town, he’s your all around guy who’s pretty handy though he won’t be eager to help you fix anything unless u bribe him. You can find him either taking a nap or fall in love with the next person that’s even the least bit nice

Monique: Retired actress and socialite she came to the island to get away from the big city and be with her thoughts. She’s very outgoing but won’t stay at parties for long, she’d rather read her book or worry about her ex husbands and kids she ditched. Don’t ask her what happened to her first husband though.

Hazel: she’s leaving soon idc

Pancho: who’s kid is this? How or when did he show up? No one really knows but he loves running around and playing in the sand so I guess he’s harmless. He’s very adventurous and loves to LARP so you’ll see him hanging around Freckles the most.

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shawty-writes-a-little · 2 years

Text

The longing came

Erik lensherr x fem!reader

Warning: Angst, blood loss, violence, potential death(let me know if I missed any)

Word count: 3.4k

An: it’s angst w happy ending dw I’m not a soulless monster who loves torture <3

The afternoon sun raised bright in the centre of the horizon reflected and rubbed off as y/n waved her hand on the water surface in the small fountain in the garden. It was the late hour of the afternoon, almost supper time which y/n would mostly spend gardening or sometimes rearranging her and Erik’s living room.

It was all the beauty of the mundane life Y/n and Erik shared for quite a while. A small house, not in the centre of the city but not very far off, tall trees surrounding their house at times it almost felt like it was the only place on earth. The only place to be.

Erik wasn’t usually home at this time but nothing was very unsurprising with him. Y/n thought as she heard his footsteps on their cobblestones. Nobody ever visited them unannounced, sure they had a lot of friends around where they lived. Erik preferred just her company he was bored and cautious of the humans since the two of them were mutants.

Y/n paced back happily to open their door before Erik knocked. She opened the door to find him in his suit. She knew he had one from his x mansion days but she never wore it. He never even acknowledged having it-Erik considered that part of his life long gone. He especially never wore his suit out in the broad daylight “Erik-what are you—“ y/n trailed off looking around if anyone from the neighbourhood had seen him like this.

Stepping aside she let him in quickly shutting their door. “What’s the matter why are you in your suit?” Y/n asked worriedly.

“I have something very important to speak to you about.” He stated as his eyes had the complete opposite expression of y/n’s. He looked smug-with his suit and his knuckles already white but not with fear, he seemed fearless but not the way y/n would see him daily.

“What happened? Is it Charles? Raven? Did Raven cal—“

“No it’s neither of them it’s something bigger.” Erik interrupted her mid-sentence taking her fidgeting hands in his he started off “I met others-others like us, I met the first one of us.”

“First one of us? Mutants?” Y/n asked him confused as if that was possible. She didn’t believe the conspiracies about them, nor the ‘Mutant’s are God’s mistakes’ destination. For one it didn’t matter to her where the genetic modification was originated from. She understood her power and the others like them she had a study going on when they were back at the x mansion too but she left that life alongside Erik and the mortal life didn’t seem so bad either.

“Yes-it’s not just any mutant y/n—with the first one and the others-me and you-we can be who we are without hiding. It’s going to change the world!” Erik explained to her with hope in his eyes which almost made them look dark.

“What do you plan to do Erik? What is this about-did someone find out—“

“This! This is what it’s about! We won’t have to live scared that someone would find out-we won’t have to change places or hide from anyone ever again.” Erik told her gently holding the sides of her face, his touch was always intimate but right now it didn’t feel a romantic verge. It felt like he was trying to make an impact have her clear attention.

“I don’t understand Erik I—this was long behind us.” She replied with an unsettled look on her face and placed her hands on top of his resting on her cheeks.

“It will never be behind us this is what we are! We won’t ever have to hide again-we can do it y/n. The others. You and me-the first one!” Erik exclaimed agitated knowing well enough she was just holding back what she wanted to say with her righteousness.

“No.” she whispered seeing through what he planned to do, this had happened countless times before, they’ve had this conversation before-the two of them—with Charles. Maybe the life they led in the little town disconnected from the disdain of the world towards them was just a fever dream. Maybe this is what Erik always tend to do.

“No no no no-Erik you cannot do this.” She shook her head in denial that he did actually consider this.

“We can. We can finally stop being afraid-changing cities, identities, we won’t ever have to do that now.” He stated smugly as though they had already accomplished this absurd dream of his.

“Do you hear yourself?!” Y/n sneered at him surprised how he could talk about world domination and who know even mass murder with a straight face. “These are people! They have the right to make this choice you don’t get to do it for them!”

“So they can make this choice for us? Like they always have?!” Erik yelled as his loud voice set y/n aback. He had always been extreme with his emotions, anger was the one that had a home in his feelings. But every time they fought and he would yell it would just blur her thoughts for a moment trying to comprehend.

“This-YOU! You’re the only reason why our likes go through what they have for decades! This cowardice has a price the mutant kind pays!” Erik continued with the same louse volume, banging his hand on the side table.

“D-do not raise your voice at me.” Y/n wanted to sound firm but it came out as a plead moreover. “You’ve already made your decision so-“ y/n sighed shrugging her shoulders as she averted her gaze to everyone in the room, trying to think at lost of words.

“Yes. And I would prefer your decision same as mine y/n I want you by my side.” His words felt stinging through her skin how simply he wished her to be like him.

“No.” She shook her head firmly this time finally gathering the courage to sound just as confident as him “I will not partake in this insanity of yours! I will go back to New York to-“

“To Charles?” He cut her off “Then what? Your team or nobleness and ethics will stop us?” Erik scoffed in an undermining manner. Y/n hated being talked down to knowing she was right.

“Very well then.”

Three months. It had been three months since the xmen had defeated the first one. Y/n had never spoken to Erik ever since, neither did Erik. Charles considered getting him to talk to her before he left. He was a good friend he knew Erik wasn’t a means to an end, Charles knew both of them very well-that day y/n came to the x-mansion after the first time in years she told them everything about this first one and Erik’s encounter with him but her mind was racing with bits of sentences he must’ve said that prickled her. Even in the worst possible circumstances she always worried for him even after what he’d told her, mocked her as a coward.

Yet Charles couldn’t even persuade him to say goodbye to her. He left without saying goodbye. It hurt y/n to see him not even acknowledge what they once had as he chose to leave without any word. Not that y/n hoped much from him either. She wasn’t one to bend her morales for him and he didn’t seem to care either.

That was an end to a chapter then, she thought those three months. Occupying herself with training and every duty she could possibly take up around x-mansion to fill the void he had left within her. Daytime would go by where she won’t think of him, busy with her work and the others especially Raven made it easier. But they would be barbarically lonely nights where she would tear up thinking about him. Their little house back when it was still a daydream, the lazy Sundays spent in each other’s arms, days where he would come home early from work—it all seemed so painfully distant now as if it never existed.

Eventually, time went on and Erik’s situation wasn’t different either. He seemed to convince himself capable of no remorse for someone who couldn’t stand beside him, aside from the side he chose was wrong but y/n questioned and opposed him as though he was sure to be wrong each time.

He chose to stay recluse, leaving yet again. Erik hadn’t decided yet what he would do or where he would turn to. What he would do with the hurt and memories of y/n he had with him.

Not very far from New York still, he was living in a rented small apartment he rarely returned to. Most days he would spend at a bar sulking in a corner. Just like today, wide hours of sunlight were upon the day but he was still following his coping routine as usual. Every hustle in the bar fell silent when it took him a moment to notice that. There wasn’t much crowd during the daylight hours anyways but the ones already present gathered around the small television and the chatter suddenly shifted. Erik stood up from his seat to see for himself. The news played on the television for the terrorist invasion in a public landmark where ‘the un-earthly ones’ were helping to fight them. He saw some faces he recognised. Of course, Charles would fight

their fight for them even though if it was the other way around their kind would have to fend for themselves. Regardless, he saw another face he recognised on the news. Y/n. He hadn’t seen her in three months other than the picture in his wallet. Three months wasn’t a long time but to him the severance was dreadful. He knew he couldn’t apologise and redeem himself for what said after nor could he ever undo what he did.

Something shifted in him seeing y/n’s face again. That feeling didn't last long as he realised what was happening. Y/n’s fighting skills weren’t to be doubted with her mutation but she had only ever done this once or twice, she lacked experience. They had trained together when she was new at the x-mansion. He was sure that Charles would’ve seen it fit to send her with more training over 3 months.

Besides, Charles would’ve seen it fir for her to go on a ‘mission’. Would he? What if he had told her not to go but she chose to anyways? Y/n was stubborn and he knew very well she wouldn’t give in easily, she wouldn’t even think twice if it came to protecting others over herself.

It could take an uglier turn. All the possibilities led to the outcome he was terrified of, the one thing he was terrified of. He stormed out of the bar pacing hurriedly. Not changing back into his suit even, it would require time from him. Trying to get to the location of the attack on the news seemed like an eternity.

Erik’s thoughts were racing in apprehension that he felt sick to his guys. Finally reaching there Raven was the first one he encountered but she didn’t take notice of him, busy with the conflict at hand.

“Where is she?!” Erik spoke loud enough for Raven to hear through the gunfire as he walked shieldless towards her. As if a metal bullet could do anything to him.

“Erik?! What are you doing here?” Raven asked ducking behind a car hood as a cover.

“Y/n? Where is she?” Ignoring her question he asked again concerned this time.

“She is inside with the helping out the hostages-why don’t you have your suit on?” Raven said moving to a pillar’s cover swiftly but Erik moved past the bullets yet freely. He raised his hand through the air making a rotating once which caused the gunmen holding them to drop their weapons at once. It was a temporary fix of course but he wasn’t here to fight the human’s fight for them. He rushed inside on his way, all his worries seemed to have washed away when he say amongst others.

Confused and brows furrowed, y/n got to the other side of the room to Erik with a car door shielding her way amidst all the bullets that flew around. “Erik?! You don’t have your suit on you shouldn’t be here!” She spoke frustrated and it made his eyes go soft that her first instinct was to look for his safety even after how things went down.

“Y/n you’re the one who shouldn’t be here! How did Charles let you?” Erik asked from a distance while she was busy looking back at the hostages again and again.

“I’m not a child Erik,” Y/n told him a matter of factly looking over at the hostages still.

“It’s not that Y/n this is coming to extremes it is dangerous!” He exclaimed but it seemed like his words paid no attention to y/n’s mind.

“Yeah alright-“ she ignored his comment moving away towards the hostages again the very moment there was a gunfire sound again.

“Y/n-no do not go in there!” Erik said as she was already lost hurrying past the scattered parts of the building again. He couldn’t stop the bullets from reaching anywhere from here and y/n was fast to getaway.

Erik sprinted towards the other side following her tracks. “Y/N!” He shouted as she fell to the ground. He saw her step in front of a bullet to save the civilian behind her. No no no no no no.

Erik rushed to her side cradling her to a cover from her current place.

“I told you not to come in here.” His thoughts had a silent screeching as he felt like this was the end of the world for him, in one sense it was. “Why don’t you ever listen?” He questioned pressing on her bullet wound and supporting her head by onto his lap.

Y/n tried sitting up on the ground but he held her down with his arm. “This is why I didn’t want you here-how did Charles even?”

“Charles didn’t—he didn’t know.” Y/n replied to him but her voice sounded weary, it sounded weak when she meant for it too. “He specifically told me not to-I came anyways it’s not his fault…” she let out a wretched cry in pain, the one she didn’t intend to as she lost bled through her suit in Erik’s hands.

“Hey hey look at me!” He spoke softly as all of a sudden a wave of fright washed over him. This seemed like a nightmare while he was wide awake.

Jean rushed in dropping to her knees in front of them. “Y/n?! Wh-I—“ she couldn’t make out her words seeing her blood spread all over the ground, Erik’s shirt, her hands.

“H-Hank! Go get Hank-and—and tell Raven we need to go back. Now!” Erik told her as Jean nodded frantically and ran back to the rest of them. Y/n was quick to look up at him her gaze wasn’t hurt or mad.

Weakly she raised her hand towards him, gently caressing the side of his face with his fingers. “I’m sorry..”

“Stay with me y/n no-no no don’t say that.” He shook his head as tears welled up his eyes.

“Erik-I love you but I am so sorry I-“ her voice was almost as faint as a whisper now.

“Keep your eyes open-hey—keep talking to me okay? I am right here please-“

“It’s okay, you’ll be alright I promise you.” She gave him a broken smile as her voice was barely coming out now. Her vision blurred as her eyelids felt heavy.

“Y/n? No-you cannot do this to me-y/n no please open your eyes.” Erik’s voice echoing was the last thing she heard before everything went black.

—

An avalanche of emotions went through Erik the entire time he sat outside the operating room at x-mansion. The most painful and grievous six hours he has ever spent. Y/n was alright, after all, a day went by she hadn’t gained consciousness but he never left her bedside.

The sight of y/n jumping in front of the bullet kept replaying in his head, when he did tell her not to go in there she went regardless. Withal did she not think he would help her? Come and save her following her in? Was this what they had come to, her thinking he wouldn’t even bother to save her life? He was sure to protect her from anything and everything, ever. Without hesitation, he would sacrifice the whole world for her. But she could’ve waited for him to sway away from that bullet. Maybe she thought he wouldn’t follow her back inside, how he left on their relationship.

His heartfelt heavy at these thoughts, he had felt the most home whenever he was with her and at once he threw that away. He almost lost her forever to realise that.

Laying on the bed every movement felt painful. Y/n couldn’t feel her torso until she tried shifting and a sharp pain shot through her body. Guess I’m alive then.

Slowly she opened her eyes and felt a hand in her hands. A figure with a downcast gaze sat beside her but she knew who he was.

“Erik” she mumbled as he looked up suddenly and a sense of relief washed over him.

“Y/n!” he continued “Are you feeling okay? Should I call Han—“

“I feel fine Erik.” She smiled him brushing softly over his knuckles.

He nodded checking her wound and then her forehead with the back and front of his palm. “Don’t ever do that to me again! We thought we’d lost you-for two whole days you—“

“Two days?” Y/n interrupted him confused and stunned at the same time.

“Yes two whole days you scared me.” It took much from him to admit that, though y/n was the only person he was ever vulnerable around it still felt uneasy to mention of loosing her too. “I never want to loose you y/n, ever. You draw my world I have only ever known myself when I loved you-when you’re around and I never want to live a morning that doesn’t bring you. I am sorry-for what I said, what I did. I am sorry I truly am, I wish you could find in your heart to forgive me because I cannot think of a future that doesn’t have you.” He told her, not looking at her as sheer guilt ran through him and he was convinced she wouldn’t want him back the way he wanted to.

A moment went by y/n said nothing, the silence was getting curler but the second right before y/n tried sitting up closer to him. She attempted to bring him closer halfway and crashed her lips on his. Erik smiled into the kiss which was unexpected to him. He moved closer to her, not breaking the and rested her head back to the pillow.

“I forgive you.” Y/n said intertwining their fingers while Erik took a brief moment of looking at her and it felt like nothing could go wrong in this moment. “What?” she asked raising a brow playfully since he was just staring at her.

“I missed you.” He flashed a smile which caused her to mirror his.

“You should have some rest.” Y/n told him remembering he must have skipped sleep the two days she was out.

“You are right.” He said moving from his seat and lied next to her in the bed. She moved making space for Erik as he pulled her closer to him from her waist and gave the top of her head a gentle peck.

“Ich liebe mich.” Y/n told him smiling uncontrollably getting to say this to him for the first time in a while.

“You’re still saying it wrong-I think you mean Ich liebe dich.” Erik chuckled deeply, he had tried teaching her a lot of German words though she tend to mess it up.

“That’s exactly what I said.”

—

An2.0: I will proof read and correct errors soon iys 6 am I still need to sleep please bare w me

Tag list: @groovy-lady @ultra1violence

#erik lensherr x reader #magneto x reader #erik lensherr #magneto #xmen x reader #xmen x you #Erik lensherr x you #Charles Xavier x reader #xmen #xmcu #x men days of future past #x men movies #x men fanfiction #micheal fassbender #james mcavoy #charles xavier #cherik

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ghstandpucks · 3 years

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Kiss and Tell ~ Nathan MacKinnon Part 1

Hi everyone! Since there was interest in the post I made earlier this week, I decided to go for it and write another Nathan MacKinnon fic lol This one will be 5 parts, and I hope you all enjoy! Let me know what you think! I'm tagging those who liked the post. If you want to be taken off or added, just let me know! Title and story (loose) inspo from the song Kiss and Tell by Angels and Airwaves!

Summary: Being Tyson Barrie's younger sister was great, until a certain teammate piqued your interest. Over the years you have to deal with school, work, and your brother being traded, but always with Nate by your side. Will your friendship ever be more though, or was it doomed from the start because of your last name?

Warnings: underaged drinking involved? nothing too terrible lol

Master List

You stood back and looked at your new room. Whenever you had visited Tyson in Denver, you always loved the city and the beautiful surroundings. So when it came to applying for college, you decided to apply to the University of Denver. The first thing you did was call your brother when you were accepted, and he immediately got his spare room ready for you to come live with him. Though you pouted for a moment, wanting to get that freshman dorm experience, Tyson argued that you would have your own bathroom and room and you caved. He claimed it would save you money in the long run to live with him, but you knew he just wanted to keep an eye on you. Tyson Barrie, always the protective older brother.

“Are you sure it’s okay if I stay with you? I’m sure I can still get a dorm,” you said walking into the living room where you found not only your brother, but three other hockey players spread out after their morning practice. It was the beginning of September and the Avs were all starting to head back to Colorado. You knew pretty much all of them from visiting your brother, beside the new additions from the 2013 draft over the summer and trades.

“Yes, I am sure. Stop asking,” Tyson said, looking over the couch at you.

“Little Barrie!” Gabe yelled, getting up to give you a hug. “Welcome to Denver!”

“Thanks Landy,” you smiled up at him.

“Hey Smalls,” Erik said, ruffling your hair. You swatted his hand away and turned to give him a hug also.

“Hi EJ,” you giggled, feeling loved and forgetting there was someone else in the apartment that you hadn’t met yet.

“Y/N, this is our new rookie. Nathan MacKinnon,” Tyson said, pointing to the guy with slightly long hair. You turned to say hello, but were caught off guard by how blue his eyes were. You had heard his name when the draft came around, your brother talking about how it’s going to be great for the team that they selected him. You had thought he was cute but honestly nothing past that. You were told years ago that you weren’t allowed to date any teammates of Tyson’s, and that was never an issue seeing as he was four years older than you. But this guy was your age, and boy was he attractive.

“Nate. Nice to meet you,” Nate smiled at you, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“You too,” you squeaked out, praying your brother did not notice you staring at his new teammate. “Congratulations on the draft! Good luck with these guys,” you said for good measure. Nate chuckled as complaints were sounded from behind you in the form of “I thought you loved us,” from Gabe and “I’m un-adopting you as a little sister,” from EJ.

You opted to sit on the floor by your brother, even though Nate tried to offered you his seat. You thought it was sweet, but tried not to read into it too much; he could just be trying to make a good impression on his new teammates. After being bombarded with questions about what classes you were going to be taking and catching up with Gabe and EJ, the guys left. “Nate seems nice,” you mentioned off handedly just to see your brother’s reaction.

“Yeah, he’s a cool guy,” Tyson said, not paying you much attention. He then seemed to register something and his head shot up to you. “No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?” you asked, faking confusion even though you knew what was coming next.

“You are not going to date him,” Tyson looked at you seriously.

“Who said I was?”

“So you aren’t interested?” he raised his eyebrow.

“No. I was just making an observation,” you lied.

“Okay. Okay, good.” Same old Tyson.

~ ~ ~

A month had past, the season had started, and you were well into your studies. Tyson had been hanging out with Nate a lot, which meant you saw him almost everyday too. Over the short amount of time and few conversations you’ve been able to have with him, the two of you had formed a friendship also. You were studying for a midterm one afternoon in the living room when both of them walked in. “How’s studying?” Tyson asked upon seeing you in the same spot he left you when he went to practice that morning.

“I’m quitting,” you deadpanned, letting your head fall on top of your note book. “I’m dumb and I’m done.”

“You are not dumb Y/N. Come on; you can do this!” Tyson tried to cheer you on, but you just lifted your head to stare at him unamused.

“Will this help?” Nate asked, placing a cup of coffee in front of you. You hadn’t even realized they both walked in with coffee from your favorite shop.

“Oh my God, bless your soul sir,” you said, taking a sip and smiling at him. Nate chuckled as Tyson patted your shoulder and walked into the kitchen. Looking at the time, you realized you only had about an hour before class. You stood up and gathered your things, figuring you would get to campus and study outside before the midterm. Maybe the change of scene would help.

“Is your test today?” Nate asked, causing you to jump as you didn’t know he was still in the room with you.

“Yup. In an hour,” you said with a small smile. “Thank you for this again,” you help up the coffee as you slipped your shoes on. “I’m leaving!”

“Good luck! You got it,” Tyson walked into the room.

“Good luck,” Nate added and you smiled at both of them quickly before heading out the door.

The following day after practice, Nate found himself back at Tyson’s apartment with Gabe and EJ once again. As they talked, the Mile High Dreams Gala was brought up. “Is there anyone you’re thinking about taking?” Gabe asked Nate. If he was being honest, he would have said you. He couldn’t help the little part of him that was starting to really like you. Being his teammate’s sister though, he didn’t want to admit it.

“No,” Nate answered simply.

“You have to take someone,” EJ chimed in and Nate gave him a confused look.

“Why?”

“Because you’re the rookie. Do you want to be chirped the whole evening for not having a date?” EJ asked. Nate didn’t think about it that way.

“Why don’t you take Y/N?” Tyson asked, and all three men stared at him. “What? She’s been bugging me about wanting to go and you two are friends. She knows pretty much everyone so you wouldn’t have to worry about leaving her alone,” Tyson reasoned, and Gabe and EJ nodded. They had noticed the friendship that had sprung up between the two 18-year-olds.

“And that’s alright with you?” Nate asked just to be sure.

“Well yeah, you guys are friends,” Tyson shrugged, and Nate nodded slowly. Friends. Just then you walked through the door, letting out a tired sigh.

“Is it the weekend yet?” you asked no one in particular, letting your backpack fall off one shoulder.

“Y/N, you’re going to the Mile High Dreams Gala with Nate,” Tyson called out to you.

“Wait what?” you asked, unsure if you heard correctly. You were going to be Nate’s date?

“He needs a date to the Gala, and you’re his friend,” Tyson explained and this time you got it. Friend, of course.

“If you don’t mind?” Nate added, not wanting you to feel like you had to.

“No, that sounds fun!” you smiled at him, and Nate smiled back. “You’re buying me a dress,” you said to your brother and the guys laughed.

“I figured,” Tyson chuckled.

The night of the Gala arrived, and you were more nervous than you would like to admit. Tyson’s girlfriend helped you with your make up, and you were finishing buckling your heels when you heard the door open. Checking your hair one last time, you made your way into the living room where Nate was talking with your brother and Emma. Tyson heard you coming and let out an audible sigh. “Finally.”

“Emma took just as long!” you defended yourself.

“She was out here like 5 minutes ago. Come on or we’re going to be late,” Tyson ushered everyone out the door as you rolled your eyes at him and Emma giggled. The happy couple were walking in front as Nate held the door open for you.

“You look great,” he whispered as you past him, and you smiled up at him hoping your blush wasn’t too noticeable.

“You too,” you managed back before Tyson was telling the two of you to hurry up. “Can you hit him extra hard at practice for me please?” you asked Nate, and he chuckled.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he offered you his arm and you laughed, walking to the car with him.

The Gala was fun. The food was good and you got to talk with everyone. You had told Nate that he could leave you and go talk with who he needed to, but he either stuck right by you or dragged you with him. Not that you minded, of course. You had come to realize that Nate didn’t really care for all the attention on him, and didn’t want to be in the media even more, so if staying with him was comforting you didn’t mind. Occasionally passing by Tyson, you would make a face at him, and EJ pulled you into a few conversations to get you to side with his opinion. He had told someone you were actually his adopted little sister and now you were just waiting for that to spread.

After the Gala, Gabe had invited all the guys and their dates to his place for an after party. An hour later you had a cup in your hand with some alcohol mixture that EJ made and were standing outside on the balcony, off in a secluded corner so you could get some fresh air. No one was outside, or so you thought until you heard the door close and foot steps heading towards you.

“Thought I was going to have to tell Tyson that I lost his sister,” Nate chuckled, leaning his elbows on the balcony next to you as you looked over at him with a smile, beer in his hand. A slight breeze came by, making you shiver and Nate took off his suit jacket, placing it over your shoulders.

“Thanks. I just needed some air. And to make EJ think I actually drank all of this even though I’m thinking of pouring it into that plant over there,” you giggled, feeling the effects of your drink.

“What is it? I saw him making it,” you shrugged and handed it to Nate so he could have a sip. His face scrunched up when he swallowed. “Okay, is he trying to poison you?”

“Apparently so,” you laughed, taking another sip yourself and feeling its effects go straight to your head. “Yup, into the plant you go! Make sure Gabe doesn’t come out here.” Nate looked around while you poured the last fourth of your drink out. At this point you were a giggling mess and Nate was a little buzzed. “The super-secret mission has been accomplished. Double 07, out” you whispered, laughing the whole time.

“Wait if you’re James Bond, then who am I?” Nate laughed along, completely amused by your antics.

“Obviously you’re the Bond girl,” you said, trying to be serious but completely failing.

“Eh, makes total sense,” Nate tried to flip his hair the best he could, putting too much force into it and ended up stumbling backward a few steps.

“Oh no!” you squealed, reaching out for him like you could actually support his weight. Your hand landed on his arm and his reached around your waist as he steadied himself, the two of you dissolving into a fit of giggles. Yup, the alcohol was hitting harder than you thought. Once you calmed down and straightened up a bit, you were still clinging to Nate and he didn’t remove his arm from you. Looking up at him, you could just barely make out how blue his eyes were in the darkness of your surroundings.

“I meant what I said earlier. You really do look beautiful tonight,” Nate said softly, as if unsure that he should even be telling you that. And maybe he shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t deny his growing feelings for you.

“Thank you. You look very handsome,” you admitted, biting your lip briefly. Nate’s eyes lingered there for a second, then flicked back up to met yours. In what could only have been from the liquid courage coursing through his body, he slowly lowered his head, his lips finding yours in a soft kiss. You stood there shocked, your mind blanking for a moment. When you didn’t kiss him back, Nate pulled away, worried he overstepped. Once your mind caught up with the situation though and your own liquid courage kicked in, you brought your hand up to the nape of his neck and pulled him back into a kiss. Nate’s arms pulled you closer as the kiss became rushed and sloppy; two drunk teenagers praying they don’t get caught. That was the unfortunate thing about parties though, someone was always around. One moment Nate’s hands were all over you, the beer can long forgotten. The next, someone was clearing their throat, causing the both of you to jump away from each other like shrapnel. You looked down, trying to compose yourself before facing whoever it was that caught you…praying it wasn’t your brother. You slowly peaked up from under your lashes, breathing a quiet sigh of relief that it was only EJ. It wasn’t till you fully turned to him that you noticed his arms were crossed and he didn’t seem at all happy.

“Your brother is looking for you,” he said, and you nodded. With one last glance at Nate, you scurried back inside to find Tyson who was ready to head home. You were able to duck his question about what you were doing and why your face was red, but Emma seemed to have an idea by the sly smile she gave you and the raised eyebrows. Once you got home you made a bee line for your room, calling a goodnight over your shoulder. You could blame it on the alcohol tomorrow, but you didn’t want to be questioned by your brother tonight. Nate on the other hand wasn’t so lucky.

“What do you think your doing?” EJ asked Nate once the door had closed behind you. Nate was trying to find the right words, looking like a fish out of water. “You know she’s your teammate’s sister, right?”

“Yes but…”

“Oh there is no buts. She’s your teammate’s sister, she’s off limits. Unless you want to be the reason there is a chemistry issue with team, because believe me over Y/N, Tyson will cause one, I suggest you let whatever is happening there go,” EJ said, and Nate nodded. He didn’t want to create a problem for the team, no matter what he felt for you. This was his future; all he had ever worked for.

“Sorry,” Nate muttered, and EJ sighed. He had a feeling this would happen from the moment the two of you met, and he hated being the bad guy but right now was not the time to try to convince Tyson not to kill the rookie.

“I won’t tell Tyson, but this can’t happen again,” EJ said and Nate nodded. “Go home, sleep it off.” EJ walked back into the party leaving Nate by himself on the balcony. He picked up his beer can, and your cup that was forgotten during the kiss at some point also. Nate suddenly felt very sober, and upset that he let his emotions get the better of him. He would have to talk to you and sooth things over; hopefully before you talked to your brother and Tyson kills him.

Tagging: @avsfans95 @justjosty @tysojost @glassdanse @megacool66 @xoxoxohaleyxoxoxo @itsthehockeyobsessionforme @handwrittenheroes @je-ne-regrette-rien @joeyisourranger @thescooby-gang @gazingatthesun @art-m-anic @cherrylita @mellany1997

#nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nathan mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon imagine #colorado avalanche fic #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine

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tchallasbabymama · 3 years

Text

All For Us Chapter 9

Hey y’all, thanks for being patient with me on this one, but it’s finally done! Not to be the bearer of bad news or anything, but there’s only one chapter left (and maybe an epilogue) on our journey with Mira, Erik, and Cupcake. If you’re just here for Killmonger, I have a couple Erik oneshots heading y’all’s way in the next few weeks. Also, check out The Temple. 😉

As always, don’t forget to look at my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots, and let me know if you want to be tagged in anything. Like, comment, and reblog away! 🥰

CW: a little smut

Word Count: 6,481

Erik’s eyes flew open as he bolted upright through the sand that covered his body in his temporary grave. He was in the heart of the temple where the Black Panther ceremony took place, the City of the Dead. The lost prince pulled himself from the sand and brushed the clay-colored sediment from around his eyes as he climbed the stone staircase leading up into the garden of the heart-shaped herb. When he made it to the top, Erik took a deep breath before stepping into the garden. To his surprise, nothing caught on fire like in his previous dreams. His shoulders relaxed as he took another step into the garden, and another, and another until he was face to face with Bast’s statue. A smile took over his face as he knelt at her feet.

“Took you long enough, Jaguar.”

Erik lifted his head, and her celestial glow nearly blinded him as he laid his eyes on the panther goddess once more.

“Long enough for what?”

“For your senses to come back, obviously.” Bast circled him and laid down, licking her paw. “Pretty soon, you won’t have to be asleep to talk to me.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Oh, I had nothing to do with it.”

Erik turned to face her and sat back on his heels.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I never took them away. You did.”

“I’m not following.”

“Your guilt blocked your senses, Erik,” she sighed. “You had been holding onto pieces of it, but you finally let it go.”

“I felt guilty for ruining our marriage,” Erik mused aloud.

“But you didn’t, so congratulations,” she said nonchalantly. “That’s not why you’re here, though.”

“Ok, what’s up?”

Bast chuckled at his informality.

“Last time we spoke, I said I would need you to do something for me. I’ve finally made up my mind as to what that is.”

Erik sat with bated breath as he waited for his assignment. For a moment, he was reminded of his military and mercenary days, except this time, he was being given a mission from a goddess. His goddess.

“As you know, Wakanda has never had a Golden Jaguar before. You are an anomaly, but that is a good thing.” She stood up and started walking, making him rush to his feet to follow after her.

“It is?”

“Yes. You know, the good thing about cycles is that with destruction comes rebirth…change. You’ve forced Wakanda to change, and you’ve forced me to think some things over. Truthfully, after the little stunt you almost pulled, I did think about removing your powers. I don’t need to preach about it, though, since you already know all about your wrongdoings, but I heard what you said about your people. We have neglected them, and for that, I have no words of apology that would adequately ease your pain. The Lost Tribe, as my people have come to call you, needs a champion. Wakanda already has theirs, but since you seem to rather enjoy toying with colonizers, I have an assignment for you.”

Erik’s ears were trained on Bast as he hung on every word she said. He walked next to her as they made their way through the catacombs towards the temple’s entrance.

“Before you came to Wakanda, you were involved with Klaue and his hunt for vibranium. Your vast knowledge of African and diasporic artifacts combined with your training makes a great equation for what I need you to do.”

“Which is?”

“I want you to act as the Golden Jaguar on the Lost Tribe’s behalf. I recognize that as just one person, you can only do so much, which is why I will talk to T’Challa about you heading his Wardog program. I would like for you to have an army of spies at your disposal to act instead of just watch and report as they have done in the past.”

“So basically what I wanted to do before but without the world domination?”

“Precisely,” Bast chuckled and stopped walking at the door to the temple.

“Ok,” Erik thought on it as a smile crept up his cheeks. “I’ll do it.”

“I knew you would. I think you’ll like my first assignment. Well, second. First, you need to stop avoiding the City of the Dead in your waking life. You need to go visit the garden.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Erik said, his nerves twisting in his gut at the thought of actually stepping back onto the sacred land.

“Now, my second assignment: artifact reclamation. Instead of searching for vibranium, which you might find, I want you to return items to their rightful owners.”

“So, stealing,” Erik deadpanned.

“Yes, but for a good cause. I will let you work out the details, but the point is to return the power to the people by building them back up, brick by brick. They were separated from their gods, so the Ancestors and the Orishas are working on bringing them back to us spiritually. They are still working on getting other spirits and pantheons on board...alas, my brother and sisters are choosing to take a more passive approach.” She sighed. “The Lost Tribe was taken from the land, so T’Challa has already spearheaded initiatives to build up other African countries that need his assistance and bring the Lost home to the continent. Now, I need you to bring our belongings home. Our thrones, our art, our history. Take it back. Bring it back to its rightful place.”

“I’m with it, but, um...how am I supposed to do this without getting caught? If shit just starts disappearing en masse, somebody’s gonna notice.”

“They won’t disappear. The colonizers won’t even know they’re gone.” Bast flicked her tail mischievously. “Your wife designs kimoyo beads, does she not?”

“Well, yeah-”

“And your cousins are scientific geniuses, correct?”

“Yes…”

“Then I’m sure that between all of your big beautiful brains, you can figure out a way to make replicas of the artifacts.”

“Why does that compliment feel like an insult?”

“I like you, Jaguar,” The goddess chuckled. “Now go enjoy your time with your wife.” She winked at Erik as she nudged him out into the brightness shining from outside the wide-open temple doors. Erik returned to consciousness, and he was shocked by the feeling of Mira’s mouth traveling up and down his shaft.

“Fuck, girl. This how you waking Big Daddy up now?”

She popped her head off his tip, and he groaned at the sight of a bridge of spit still connecting her to him.

“Good morning, baby.”

“Mmmm, good morning to you, too,” he grabbed her loose curls that she had forgotten to tie up the night before. The silk sheets kept her hair soft and bouncy as her hair spilled over his fist while it rested at the back of her head. He pulled her in for a kiss, and then she went right back to taking him down her throat. “You’re gonna make me nut all down that throat, Princess.”

Mira’s hand cupped and massaged his ballsack while she sucked on his bulbous head. Her tongue swirled around the tip, and her other hand traveled up and down his length, making his toes curl.

“Fuuuuck, you remember just what Big Daddy likes. Imma bust a fat ass nut, girl,” Erik groaned through gritted teeth. Mira giggled at her control over him and continued to work his dick. Her nose reached his pelvis as she took him down her throat, and he came with such force that she almost choked. Almost.

When she pulled off of him, she tongue-kissed his tip before sitting back on her haunches and wiping her mouth. “How’d you sleep?”

Erik let out a breathy laugh, “Like the dead.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised you didn’t feel me moving. You were out cold.”

“That’s because I was talking to Bast.”

“What’d she say this time?”

Erik sat up against the headboard and motioned for her to come to him. Mira crawled up his body and straddled him, sliding down on his dick so that they were connected as deep as they could be. They had always been like this; whenever they needed to have a serious conversation, Erik would set her in his lap and have her take all of him. They both reveled in the connection they had in that moment, and even in their stillness, their united bodies responded to each other as the words fell from his lips.

“She wants me to be the Golden Jaguar officially,” he said as he kissed down from Mira’s ear to her shoulder.

“What does that mean?” Mira asked, barely above a whisper.

“She wants me to be a champion for us, the Lost Tribe. Wakandans have T, so I’ll be protecting the rest of us with the Wardogs.”

“How, though? That’s so many people.”

He came up from kissing between her breasts to look her in the eyes. “Well, remember how I told you about the museum heist to get the vibranium?”

Mira nodded.

“She wants me to steal artifacts from museums and shit and return them to where they were stolen from.”

“That sounds right up your alley,” Mira snarked, and he tickled her sides, making her pussy clench around him, and he let out a groan at the feeling. He grabbed her hips and moved them back and forth.

“It is. I can’t do anything until I visit the garden of the heart-shaped herb, though.”

“Why?” she moaned.

“I’ve been avoiding it,” he sighed.

Mira pulled him into a kiss and cycloned her hips as she wound on him. “Do you need to go alone, or do you want me to come with you?”

He connected their foreheads as he pushed his hips forward into her, and she called out his name.

“I need to go alone.”

Their hips ground into each other as the sexual energy inside them built up slowly and erupted through their bodies. Erik placed kisses all over Mira’s face and neck as she caught her breath from the intensity of her orgasm.

“How about I make breakfast?” Erik asked, and Mira simply nodded and kissed him. She moved to get up, but he held her down. “Nah, I didn’t say right now.”

After another round, the two of them separated from each other, if only because of the rumbling of their bellies. They showered together, and Erik couldn’t help himself from bending her over and eating her pussy and ass from the back. Pretty soon, he was balls deep inside her again, and when he came all over her cheeks, he about keeled over from the way the orgasm shook through his body.

“Aight, I need a break,” Erik said, and the two of them shared a laugh as they finished their shower without any more funny business.

“Can I have one of your t-shirts?” Mira asked as they slathered themselves in shea butter.

“You can have anything you want, Princess. MIT or Navy?”

“MIT please,” she cheesed at him.

“Coming right up.”

Erik left the room and returned with his maroon-colored MIT t-shirt. The same one she wore the first time she stayed over at his apartment back in the day. He knew it was her favorite and the look on her face when he handed it to her was priceless. She quickly shimmied into it while he slid on a pair of sweatpants that left little to the imagination.

The two of them relocated to the kitchen, and Mira toyed around with her latest kimoyo design on her tablet while Erik got to work on breakfast.

“That a new one?” he asked, nodding towards the design hovering over the counter.

“Yeah, I haven’t gotten it to work right, though,” she grumbled as she stared at it. “I want it to be able to apply cloaking tech to whatever it touches, but so far, I can only get the bead to disappear.”

Erik listened to her complain about her failed design for a little while, and when she was done, she turned off the tablet and hopped up on the counter.

“Anything I can do?” Mira asked

“Mhm,” he came over and stood between her legs, placing a sloppy kiss on her lips. “Just sit there looking fine as hell.”

“I’m serious,” she smiled.

“So am I,” he said incredulously with a hand over his heart, making her chuckle at his dramatics.

“Fine, I’ll be your muse.”

“And my guinea pig. Here, try this.”

Erik lifted the spoon to her lips so she could taste the yam hash he had been working on, and her eyes bugged out of her head.

“I forgot you turn into Top Chef after sex.”

“Gotta feed my woman,” he kissed her cheek and cracked a couple of eggs sunny-side up in the skillet.

Mira giggled, and an idea struck her. She reached back for her tablet again and pulled up her latest work in progress, a story about a decades-long whirlwind romance that she had gotten stuck on. All she needed was a little inspiration, and Erik ended up being just what she needed.

He watched his wife type away with a smile on his face. Erik loved watching her work; the look of determination on her face was always so endearing to him. She’d bite her lip and squint her eyes as she tried her best to focus on the task at hand. Erik always thought it was adorable.

The smell of fresh vegetables coming in contact with hot oil filled the air, and Mira’s mouth started to water. She looked up from her work to see what Erik was doing but got distracted by his body. She watched his sinewy muscles moving beneath his textured skin, and a chill went down her spine.

“What the fuck is that?” Erik sniffed the air, following the sweet scent that had just wafted from out of nowhere.

“What’s what?” Mira asked, swinging her legs back and forth.

He turned to face her, and his pupils blew wide as the smell hit him again.

“It’s you,” he turned off the burner and stalked over to her, standing between her legs again and placing his nose in the crook of her neck. He inhaled her scent and let out a growl.

“What is that?”

“My bodywash?”

“Nah, it’s you. What-” he cut himself off when it dawned on him. When he was king for a day, he only smelled fear from those around him. Fear smelled like decay, it smelled rotten, but this was the exact opposite. It was enticing, like the most beautiful forbidden garden, and Erik knew exactly what it was. Her arousal. He bit into her neck, making her moan out as he ground his hips into hers. The aroma grew, and Erik’s composure slipped away the more he inhaled it.

“E-erik, the food.”

He took a deep breath as he stood to his full height. “I can smell when you want me.”

“What?!”

“I wonder if it’s different for every person...shit, I wonder if I can smell other people. I hope not-”

“What are you saying? You can tell when I’m horny?”

“I guess so. I only smelled fear before, but it makes sense. I’m just caught off guard because it hit me out of nowhere, like last night.”

“What happened last night?”

“I could hear your heartbeat.”

Mira’s face lit up, “That’s good, though, right? It means your senses are coming back!”

“Yeah, I’m just surprised by that one. I wasn’t expecting all that,” he laughed.

“So...I smell good?”

“You don’t know how good, Princess,” he grumbled as he finished cooking. Mira crossed her legs, making him chuckle. “That’s not helping. It’s all over you.”

“Damn...what else can you do?”

“I need to test out my strength and speed, but my sight was different, too. Everything was brighter, more vibrant. And my brain moved faster...I don’t know how to explain it. Bast said my guilt was the blockage, so they’ll probably slowly come back over time. After they’re back, I’m supposed to start on my mission.”

“You still felt guilty?”

“I thought I broke us. I mean, I did, but I felt like it was unfixable, you know?”

Mira nodded, “Yeah, it felt like that sometimes.”

Erik pulled the dishes out of the cabinet and set them down next to her.

“Mira, I’m-”

“Erik, if you say you’re sorry one more time, so help me, Bast,” Mira said, making a dimpled smile appear on Erik’s face.

“Yes, ma’am.”

They fell into a comfortable silence while Erik plated the food, and when he handed Mira hers, he left a kiss on her cheek. She smiled and hopped down from the counter to sit at the table. When she sat down, she couldn’t help but stare at Erik as he walked over. Her man, her formerly violent man was really chosen by a goddess to protect Black people around the globe.

He noticed the look on her face and couldn’t quite place it. “What?”

“Nothing, just...look at you, doing the work of gods now.”

“I bet you never thought you’d say that about your mercenary husband,” Erik winked at her.

“Sure didn’t,” Mira laughed, “but it fits. You always had it in you. You know, I’m glad I came out here. I wouldn’t get to see this new side of you otherwise, and so far, I like it.”

--------

A couple of hours later, Erik found himself in front of the City of the Dead with his palms sweating and his breath shaking. He wasn’t sure why the temple unnerved him so much, but it did. Erik knew he had to do what Bast told him, though, and took a step forward. He climbed the stairs to the ornate stone doors and waited as they slowly opened for him. Erik was met with the sight of a surprisingly calm woman in purple robes. He recognized her as the woman he had choked out, the new head priestess.

“My prince,” she saluted him. “Welcome. I have been expecting you.”

“You have?”

“Of course. Come in.”

He hesitantly stepped forward again and entered the temple. A chill went down his spine as the doors shut behind them, and he looked around the space. He had only been there once before in his waking life, but this time it felt different. It probably had something to do with the fact that she wasn’t scared of him this time around.

“What’s your name?” he asked nervously.

“I am Zaya, my prince.”

“You don’t have to do the whole ‘my prince’ thing. Especially since I...you know.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I’m sorry about that. I should’ve never put my hands on you.”

“I have spoken to Bast about it, and I forgive you. Just don’t let it happen again,” she warned.

Erik put his hands up in defense, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good. Now, you are here to see the herb, no?” She started walking, and he followed behind her.

“How’d you know?”

“I spoke to Bast, remember?” She quipped with an eyebrow raised.

“Heh, yeah,” he chuckled nervously and cleared his throat. “I don’t know why I’m so anxious.”

“I assume that is a normal reaction when reckoning with your past.”

The two of them traveled deeper into the temple, and when they reached the door that led to the garden of the heart-shaped herb, he froze. Zaya looked back when she no longer heard his footsteps and smiled warmly, reaching out her hand to him. He took it, and she led him through the doors. Erik almost wanted to close his eyes, but he knew he had to face his past actions head-on.

He looked around, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw there were dozens of tiny glowing purple buds just begging to become full-grown flowers. He laughed in disbelief at what he was seeing. He had burnt the garden to ashes, but now here it was, thriving in spite of him.

“It took us a while to get them to grow again, but thankfully we were able to put out the fire before the roots were harmed,” Zaya spoke as he wandered through the garden in awe.

“And these...they still work?”

“The princess took a sample and tested it in her lab. According to her, this new batch might be a little different, but they should still work. Bast has given them her blessing, so that is enough for me.”

“So, I didn’t ruin Wakanda’s future like I thought...”

“No, just a bump in the road,” she smiled.

Just as he was about to respond, the strangest thing happened. His eyes were trained on one of the buds, and suddenly he could see every little vein in the leaves and the detail of the curled-up petals. The color became brighter and even more purple than most people could comprehend, and a tear rolled down his cheek as he smiled.

He could see again.

“Are you ok?” Zaya asked tentatively.

Erik cleared his throat, “Yeah, I’m good. It’s just my senses are coming back, and...they’re beautiful.”

“And resilient.”

He laughed and wiped the tear from his face.

“How about I give you some time alone?”

“Thanks, Zaya, that’d be great.”

She bowed her head in deference and went back the way they came. When she was gone, Erik let out a sigh as he took in the sight before him.

“They really made it…”

“Of course, they did. Did you think I would leave my people defenseless?” Bast’s silky voice rang out through the temple, and he turned around to see her standing there in her mostly-human form. She was a statuesque and curvaceous woman with the head of a panther and locs that spilled over her ebony shoulders. Erik dropped to his knees as she walked towards him. “No need for all of that. Stand up, Jaguar.”

He laid eyes on her once more as he rose from the ground. Her glow was almost blinding, but his eyes adjusted quickly.

“I can’t believe I’m seeing you in person.”

“Get used to it. I like to pop in on my champions every now and again. Sometimes in dreams, sometimes in your thoughts, and sometimes in person. It all depends.”

“On what?”

“On you and what you need, or what I need from you.”

“Ok, so what do you need from me?”

Bast chuckled. “Truthfully, nothing this time. I just needed to see you face-to-face.”

“You don’t have an assignment for me?”

“Not yet. I know how much you enjoy the sanctuary, so I’ll let you stay there a little whille longer. Plus, you are just now mending your marriage and need time to spend with your wife and child before I call you away.”

“How much time?”

“Enough,” she winked.

“You’re so cryptic,” Erik chuckled.

“Yes, your cousin thinks so, too. However, I prefer ‘mysterious.’”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smirked.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you long,” she sighed. “You have some party planning to do. They grow up fast, don’t they?”

“Especially when you miss a couple of years,” he murmured.

“Which is why I’m giving you at least a year before I call on you. Make good use of it, Erik.”

“Yes, ma’am, I will.”

“Good. Oh, and one more thing, Erik.”

“Yeah?”

“Try running back to the palace,” she winked again as she shimmered away, leaving him alone in the temple.

Erik tried to contain himself as he left the garden and ran into Zaya.

“Was your ‘alone’ time fruitful?” she asked knowingly.

All he could do was beam at her with his megawatt dimpled smile.

“Very.”

Erik said goodbye and ran back through the forest to the city, his heart beating out of his chest in excitement. His superhuman speed carried him back in no time as the wind whipped against his body. A smile was plastered on his face the whole time, even when he slowed down as he reached the outskirts of Birnin Zana. He hurried to the palace as inconspicuously as he could and happened to run into Mira just as she was leaving. When she saw the look on his face, she couldn’t help the grin that took over hers.

“So, how did- Erik!” She squealed as he picked her up and twirled her around with barely any effort.

“They’re back!”

“Your powers?”

“Well, yeah, but the heart shaped herb is coming back!” he peppered kisses all over her face and neck while she giggled. “You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined you could be.”

“So I take it your vision came back, and you’re super strong again?”

“And fast. I ran here in like twenty minutes.”

“From the CIty of the Dead?!”

“Mhm,” he nodded as he set her back on the ground.

“Damn, baby, that’s...that’s amazing.”

“I need to test them out some more, so I’m gonna see if T has some time to spar. You going to the lab?”

“Shopping, actually. Okoye and Ayo took Imani so I could get some last-minute party stuff.”

“Need someone to carry your bags?”

“Oh, hell yeah. Especially since you got that jaguar strength again.”

“Lead the way, beautiful.”

--------

Early that Saturday morning, as the sun crested over the trees, Mira and Erik stood on the tarmac watching as the Royal Talon descended from the sky. Mira was almost shaking with excitement as the doors opened and T’Challa stepped out, followed by some of her favorite people in the whole world.

“Titi!”

SJ ran down the ramp past the king and flung himself into his auntie’s arms. She held him tight and rocked him from side to side as Stef and Ana approached, with Daveed teetering between the two of them.

She looked up at them and gasped, “Oh my god, he can walk now? How long have I been gone?”

“Girl, too long,” Havana complained as she wrapped her arms around her sister-in-law.

Stefan was next to greet her, and his eyes stayed glued to Erik the whole time as he enveloped his sister in a bear hug, “We missed you, Sammy.”

“No, you miss my cooking,” she laughed as she crouched down to say hi to her littlest nephew.

“You remember Titi Mira?” Ana asked him, and he shook his head, hiding behind his dad’s leg.

“That’s ok, we can get to know each other while you’re here,” Mira smiled at him and stood back up.

“Who are you?” SJ asked when he finally noticed the man standing behind his aunt.

“SJ, this is your Uncle Erik. You might not remember him but-“

He thought about it for a moment before it dawned on him. “Do you still have all those bumps on you?”

Stefan tried to hold in his snickering, and Havana hit him in his chest.

“Uh, yeah, I do.”

“That’s so cool!”

“Heh, thanks, lil man.”

“So, brother in law…It’s good to see you,” Stef deadpanned. He was clearly not feeling Erik anymore.

“You, too, man,” Erik went to dap him up, and he stared at his hand in contempt.

“Stefan, behave,” Havana said with a roll of her eyes. “Hi Erik, how are you?”

“Much better since I’ve been here.”

“Good, good…”

T’Challa had been standing to the side while the family reunited but decided to intervene when things got awkward.

“Stefan, Havana, let us show you to your quarters.”

“Oooh, our ‘quarters,’” Ana sang excitedly. “Sounds so fancy.”

“It’s a palace, Ana. Of course it’s fancy,” Stef grumbled.

She cut her eyes at him. “Don’t act out in front of company.”

Mira chuckled. She hadn’t realized how much she missed hearing their playful bickering.

As they made their way through the place, Stef and Ana stared slack-jawed at their surroundings while SJ ran ahead of the group.

“You live here?” Ana asked.

“Mhm. It’s gorgeous, right?!” Mira bragged.

“That’s not even the word…”

T’Challa smirked as he listened to them compliment his home.

“So, where’s the birthday girl?” Stefan asked.

“She is with my mother and Ororo.”

“Ororo?” Stef stopped in his tracks. “Munroe?!”

“The one and only,” T’Challa grinned proudly.

“Holy shit…”

“Language,” Havana chided her husband as she covered SJ’s ears.

“What is it with these men and cursing around children?” Mira shook her head at her brother.

“Girl, I don’t know, but let’s get back to Storm. How’d y’all meet?”

“She’s his girlfriend,” Erik nodded towards his cousin.

“Dang, how’d you get her? I mean, I know you’re a king and all, but- Wait, are you a mutant, too?” Stef asked.

T’Challa and Mira made eye contact, and she nodded for him to continue. They were family and would most likely be seeing a lot of Wakanda, so they’d find out eventually.

“I am enhanced, yes.”

“Like Steve Rogers?” SJ chimed in excitedly from a few feet ahead.

“He wishes,” T’Challa complained under his breath as they stopped in front of the door across from Erik and Mira. Both of them chuckled at the king’s arrogance.

“So...you’re enhanced. Why, though?” Stef asked.

They entered the suite, and the interrogation was cut short when the Greenwoods saw how beautiful their temporary home was.

“Holy shit…” Ana mused as she covered SJ’s ears.

Mira gave them a quick tour while T’Challa and Erik hung back in the living area.

“So, you and Stefan-”

“He never liked me, and I made things worse by disappearing,” he shrugged.

T’Challa nodded as he changed into his suit.

“Oh, so you’re coming all the way out?”

“They will find out eventually, so I might as well get it over with.”

Erik nodded as Mira rounded the corner and saw T’Challa in his suit. She smirked and called SJ. He ran back into the room and froze when he saw Black Panther standing there next to his uncle. Ana was next to round the corner and looked at her son questioningly before she looked up and saw what he was staring at with his mouth open.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said with a hand on her hip.

“About what?” Stef came next, and T’Challa’s mask disappeared into his necklace. “This place is insane.”

SJ couldn’t move. He was looking at his favorite hero in the entire world, right there in the place he’d call home for the next week. His mind could barely wrap around what he was seeing, and he couldn’t process his emotions. Tears started flowing down his face, and a sob wracked his body.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok, baby,” Ana crouched down and wiped his tears as Stef came over with Daveed on his hip.

“You’re not excited to see Black Panther?” He asked his eldest son.

SJ shook his head, and T’Challa deflated. Erik kept his snickering to himself, but Mira shot him a look anyway.

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to upset him.”

“He’s just in shock. It’ll wear off eventually,” Ana said as she brushed SJ’s locs out of his face.

————

It took way longer to wear off than they thought, and by the time they arrived at the party venue in the palace’s botanical gardens that afternoon, he still hadn’t said a word. T’Challa tried to speak to him a couple of times, but he shied away behind Mira or his parents. Eventually, Erik convinced him to give the kid some space and pulled the dejected king away to the other side of the garden. While the other kids and their parents arrived, SJ kept looking at T’Challa out of the corner of his eye.

“You know, he doesn’t bite...or scratch,” Mira leaned in and said to her nephew as she sat down next to him at the kid’s table. “In fact, he’s pretty cool once you get to know him.”

“Does Imani know?” he spoke up for the first time in hours, and Mira was happy to hear his voice again.

“Oh, yeah. He told us when we got here, but it’s a secret so she pinky promised not to tell. You know, I screamed when I saw him.”

“You did?!”

“Mhm. He really needs to learn how to ease people into it, huh?” she asked as she poked at his side, making him giggle. Stef and Ana watched from a few yards away and smiled with him while they kept a watchful eye on Daveed as he waddled around the flowers.

SJ nodded in response, and Mira kissed his temple before getting up and leaving him to ponder her words. Right when he had worked up the courage to speak to his hero, Erik announced that Imani was on her way with Ororo and Ramonda.

“I can’t wait to see my baby girl!” Ana squealed.

Mira excitedly grabbed Erik’s hand, and he kissed her knuckles, making Stef narrow his eyes as he and his family hid behind a mango tree.

Imani appeared with her auntie and future cousin, and T’Challa recorded as she squealed excitedly at seeing everybody. A’Kidi, Kofi, Sanaa, A’Sami, Ade, and all her other friends from school greeted her with a loud “Happy birthday!” The newly five-year-old’s tunnel vision made her almost ignore her parents and other adults completely until Erik picked her up and gave her a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

“Happy birthday, Cupcake!”

“We have a surprise for you,” Mira sang.

“What is it?” Imani asked excitedly.

Erik set her down and turned her around as Mira motioned for her family to reveal themselves. SJ ran out from behind the tree and nearly tackled his cousin to the ground while her aunt, uncle, and baby cousin took a calmer approach.

“There’s the birthday girl!” Stef exclaimed while his eldest son continued to squeeze her tight. SJ let her go, and she ran into her uncle’s arms. Ana crouched down next to him, and Imani threw her arms around her neck.

“We’ve missed you so much!” Ana said as she fought tears.

“I missed you too. Wakanda is so cool! I can’t wait to show you everything,” Imani babbled.

“Did you know about Black Panther?” SJ asked, still a little nervous about meeting his hero.

Imani nodded, “I promised to keep it a secret, or I would’ve told you. It’s so cool, right?”

SJ nodded, and Imani dragged him off to meet her friends.

Erik couldn’t keep the smile off his face if he tried as he watched his little social butterfly play with her friends and cousin. It wasn’t until Mira came up and nudged him that he even realized he was staring.

“You ok?” she asked.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m fine,” he said as he put his arm around her and kissed her temple. “Just reliving some things.”

Mira looked at him curiously and he continued, “One of the few good memories I have from childhood that we talked about in therapy was my seventh birthday party. This kind of reminds me of that.”

Mira smiled as they stood there and watched Shuri, Ororo, and T’Challa play with the kids. The king regaled them with stories of his adventures, and Shuri let them ride on very slow hoverbikes while Ororo harnessed the wind to lift them up and let them fly a couple of feet off of the ground. The kids were having a ball, and their parents seemed to enjoy themselves as well. Okoye, M’Baku, and a couple other people gravitated towards each other and fell into conversation about being single parents. However, the rest of them spent most of their time ogling the royal family.

Eventually, it was time to eat and the parents were able to corral the kids into sitting down at the table. After stuffing their faces with an array of Imani’s favorite foods, Mira led the “happy birthday” song as she and Ayo carried out a huge Doc McStuffins birthday cake. Imani and SJ were the only kids who knew who she was, but everyone enjoyed the cake nonetheless. Erik couldn’t help the tear that almost came to his eye as he listened to his wife sing to their daughter, just like his mother had done to him. Loudly and slightly off key. Next, Shuri led the group in a Wakandan birthday song, and Imani blew out the huge number five candle in the center of the cake.

Mira kept stealing glances at Erik as he sliced it up and handed out pieces to everyone. He looked so happy. Even when one of the kids tripped and got icing all over his pants leg, he just kept on smiling.

Even Stef noticed the change in his brother-in-law’s demeanor and brought it up to Ana, “He smiles too much now. It’s weird.”

“It’s weird that he’s happy?”

“No, it’s just weird to see. He used to be so…”

“Surly and unapproachable.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Maybe you should get to know him?”

“Hmph,” he grunted in response. Ana decided to leave it alone for the time being and left his side to go talk to Erik.

“You think you can handle the sleepover?” she asked him.

“Thank Bast it’s not all of them.”

“It’s not?”

“Hell no, just her little crew,” he pointed to A’Kidi, Kofi, Sanaa, A’Sami, and Ade. “I’m not taking care of all these kids.”

Ana laughed, “Understood.”

“So...your husband still doesn’t like me, huh?”

“Can you blame him?” Ana deadpanned.

“Nah, I’d be the same way in his shoes.”

“He’ll come around eventually...maybe,” she said as she placed a comforting hand on his arm before being pulled away by her son to watch the Black Panther and Storm show off their powers some more. SJ still couldn’t bring himself to speak to T’Challa, but it was a start.

As the party wound down and most of Imani’s classmates went home, the few that stuck around relocated inside to the Stevens’ suite in the palace. Even with a handful of screaming children in his home, Erik was on cloud nine. He loved to see a smile on his Cupcake’s face, and he wondered if he looked that happy when he was a kid. He concluded he probably did, and as the kids watched an animated movie, he and Mira curled up on the couch behind them. While the rugrats were distracted, he pulled her chin up to plant a kiss on her lips.

“What was that for?” she smiled.

“I’ve just been thinking…”

“About what?”

“About making more good memories, you know? Some of the happiest times in my life were times just like this…and time spent with you.”

Mira looked down with a smile on her face and he brought it back up to look in her eyes.

“Marry me again.”

Her eyebrows damn near reached her hairline and a Grinch-like smile crept up her face as she nodded.

“I’d love to.” Next Chapter

Taglist: @ladymac82, @kitesatforestp, @harleycativy, @raysunshine78, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fanfiction #erik killmonger x oc #black!oc #all for us

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watery-lane · 3 years

Text

Words into Smoke

The Night You Cared Sequel.

Pairing: Modern!Ivar Lothbrok x Reader

Summary: As a part of his therapy, Ivar writes letters to unwind and keep track of his mental health progress. He writes to his mom, he misses her. He writes to Sigurd, sometimes he regrets his departure. One night, he writes about her.

Warnings: Angst

Words: 3864

A/N: (3/5/20) I had this idea in my head that I simply could not let go.

(10/4/21) P.S: Can’t promise I’m back, but I’m definitely turning to writing as a way of winding down. I hope you guys are alright.

Part I / Part II / Epilogue

Some nights, while the city sleeps, Ivar stays awake. Like an owl looking for a prey, the Ragnarsson remains seated upright at the edge of his bed, his now heavily tattooed chest exposed to the world through the panoramic window, heaving. Beating.

Some nights were amazing. He got his drivers license, and Freydis got him an adapted Bentley as a gift. He would spend the nights driving by himself down the empty streets of Kattegat, not worrying about speeding tickets or angry neighbours.

Not so long ago, he learned his wife was finally carrying a child, her round belly reminding him that he had a legacy to keep, now that the Lothbrok dynasty seemed to be more fragmented than ever. After spending thousands of krone on in vitro fertilisation, the universe seemed to work in his favour. Their favour. If the gods were unwilling to bless them two, science would. These were the nights that were made for celebrations, champaign showers and water for the mother to be.

Some nights were alright. Ivar would come back after a long day of meetings and getting his ass kissed, to find Freydis immersed in her little personal projects. He would tell Erik to pick up some takeaway while he washed away the power and wrapped himself in mundane clothes. He would eat in silence, elbows propped on the counter and eyes on the horizon, watching the sun kiss the skyscrapers goodbye as he mindlessly put food in his mouth. Then he would take his new baby for a ride, to the bar he now owned with his brother Hvitserk.

Ivar would go there, check the inventory and the register, ask the employees how everything was going and what could he do for them. Sometimes he would also find Hvitserk at the bar, practicing the cocktail skills he had been mastering since he took over your share of the bar. Ivar would simply walk past, not entirely avoiding making contact with his sibling but prefering to keep a healthy distance from the person that substituted you. He started visiting the local more often after you left, feeling the responsibility to continue what you started. He found peace in the simplicity of managing a bar: at the office, he was a tyrannic boss, voice always booming through the walls, keeping both employees and investors in check. At the bar, he was just the young lovestruck Ivar he once was. He understood then, why you wished to escape from it all. You are just a memory now, but sometimes he still feels you around, checking on the girls, checking on him.

Some nights were... Painful. Therapy had a big presence in his life. He no longer needed a cane thanks to nurse Hansen, his physical therapist. But on some days, the stress and the weather would simply take a toll on his legs, forcing him to carry around that metal stick that reminded him that he was, in fact, human.

Before you left, Freydis figured out a question that would calm Ivar down and make him focus: “What would Dr. Nielsen tell you to do?”. That was how she got him to control himself and open up the last time he was onstage, the night she met you. They were just engaged back then. Oh, how quick did time pass. Ivar no longer organised events like that. He was too consumed by his two jobs. There were nights where Freydis would be on business trips, or out hanging out with friends until the next morning, nights where absences were felt more than presences. But he was coping now. Dr. Nielsen helped the youngest Lothbrok greatly since his great breakdown.

Ivar had thought he physically felt his heart break the night he got down the stage to find you, only to figure out you were gone after most of the guests had left the hotel ballroom. He felt compelled to call you dozens of times to ask for an explanation. After his calls went unanswered, he decided to drive around town in search of you, not knowing where to start, not knowing where to ask, anger poisoning his brain and taking over his actions. That night he stayed at Loki’s after barging in to see if you were hiding there like “the coward you were”. He hated the fact that you could make him feel that weak. It felt like he was putty and Freydis was fire, hardening him the more he was exposed to her. You were water, turning him into a pliable being, at mercy of your actions.

For five days in a row, he found himself staying at his office until late at night, observing his office telephone with attention and indecision, silently praying for you to pick up the phone, practicing the rage filled words he was about to rain down on you the moment you uttered a response. He prayed with ill intentions, but he prayed nonetheless. It was his last resort.

The earth seemed to crack open and swallow him whole the moment he gathered all his courage and dialed your number, only to hear an automated voice telling him that the number no longer existed. He sat there, phone on his hand as a white noise took over the voice message, thinking about the different possibilities that could have happened for you to cancel your line. Maybe, he thought. Maybe I really asked for too much this time.

“Fuck no,” Ivar reflected out loud as he tossed his phone away, “In no fucking way this is my fault.”

“Ivar?” A distant voice reverberated through the glass corridors. It sounded familiar. The youngest Ragnarsson frowned, weirded out by the fact that one of his brothers was still in the office this late.

It wasn’t just one of his brothers, but the three of them.

“Freydis called us asking where you were. You’ve been out late at night for many days in a row, she literally just confronted each one of us asking whether you were having an affair.” Hvitserk said, arms crossed as he leaned on the door frame. “That woman nearly dragged each one of us out to look for you.” Ivar pursed his lips, outraged by such accusations from his then fiancée.

“Well, tell her I’d never do such thing.” He answered, swatting his hand in annoyance. “I am surprised she came to that conclusion, knowing how busy I always am as the bloody CEO!” He exclaimed, letting the following silence fill the room as he flashed a disdainful look towards his brothers.

“Why are you here, brother?” Ubbe finally dared to ask, observing his youngest sibling sway in his chair from side to side.

Ivar looked up for a brief moment, like a puppy who lost his favourite toy, and decided to tell them the whole story. That the had the hunch you were back from a strange event where someone knocked on his penthouse door. To that, Ubbe awkwardly shifted in his place, still listening intently. Ivar explained that he sent you an invite to his inaguration gala and how he asked you to stay for his speech so you could have a dance afterwards, unaware of the utterly personal turn his speech would take just because an old man decided to drink a bit more than usual that night. How he waited for you, called you and looked for you tirelessly, frustration filling his voice as he talked about how you had been avoiding him for a week now, changing your phone number in the process.

“If she thinks she can avoid me by changing numbers she’s dead wrong. We’re business partners, for fucks sake!” He complained, registering the situation as a burden. “I’ll find her new phone sooner or later.”

Unbeknownst Ivar, tension had been gradually building up as he spoke, his three brothers standing still in their places, not knowing how to break the news. Sure they knew this day would come, but none of the three expected to be trapped with the ticking bomb. It was way too soon. Too recent.

Hell, it was about you. It was most likely no amount of time would soften the blow.

Ubbe took a step forward, leaning on the hardwood desk. With a resigned tone, he mumbled:

“She’s gone, Ivar.” He swallowed. “(Y/n) left Kattegat.”

Already motionless before, Ivar remained still. He darted his eyes to look at his brother, confusion and fear brewing within him, fueling a fire he thought it was extinguished the day he made Sigurd leave. With trembling lips but a determined voice, he asked how did he know. How did Ubbe Ragnarsson, the brother who would stab his youngest sibling in the back at the slightest opportunity, know the whereabouts of his woman, while he sat there completely lost, disoriented.

With an attempt of a soothing voice, Ubbe confessed that months ago he offered you a job position to work on a humanitarian project he had running in Haiti. Aslaug had stated in her will that she wished to expand the non-profit organisation she created to other countries and Ubbe decided to make his deceased mother’s wish come true. He told Ivar that while you rejected the offer at first, you ended up accepting it the night of his gala. That you made him promise to make the process fast and discreet, and that, while you insisted on paying for the plane tickets, Lothbrok Inc. paid for your travel expenses and necessities. You left three days ago, unnanounced, with only Ubbe at the airport to bid you farewell.

Hvitserk, who remained silent all this time, let him know that you were no longer the owner of the bar you opened together. At that, Ivar panicked, his eyes wide open as he snapped his head towards his older brother. You simply signed a transfer contract, with Ubbe as the witness and five krone as the contingency, stating that you were returning the property to Lothbrok Inc., thus paying your debt to the family and releasing yourself from any ties to Ivar. He tried to soften the blow, letting him know that he didn’t know you gave him your share because you were leaving. He thought it was a rash decision that stemmed from seeing Ivar with a fiancée, that you’d come back and take back the business when you were ready. He promised he’d take care of the bar as well as you took care of it, that nothing would change under his management.

Ivar listened intently, motionless. His breathing was deep, yet steady. He never moved a muscle voluntarily, but his nostrils flared with every breath and his hand, hidden under the desk, shook incontrollably as he processed their words. His piercing gaze was focused on the oldest Aslaugsson, who was now relaxing and straightening his back as he regained his composure.

It felt like every action happened in slow motion, yet the blow came fast. In mere seconds, Ivar had propped himself forward from the chair, one of his hands grabbing the jacket Ubbe was wearing while the other, contracted in a fist, made contact with his right cheek. That is when Bjorn, who had been silent during the whole exchange, stepped in, grabbing the torso of his youngest brother as he struggled to keep himself standing, making sure he didn’t hurt himself.

Sometimes, Ivar still hears his own screams.

“YOU TOOK HER FROM ME!” Ivar accused, eyes absent of tears but voice cracking at the end of the sentence. “SHEWAS GOING TO STAY,” He roared, fists swinging towards his brother’s face. “AND YOU FUCKING TOOK HER FROM ME!”

He lost it that night. The screams he released came from the depths of his sorrow, his eyes only registering red while all his nerves could only feel the desperation taking over his soul. Ivar kept trying to reach Ubbe, unaware of how he repeatedly banged his legs against the desk as Bjorn tried to pin him down.

But what started as a justified outburst gradually led to nonsensical, rage-filled accusations.

“You wanted to fuck her, didn’t you? You wanted her and you couldn’t stand the fact that she chose ME!” Ivar recriminated, grabbing a sharp glass ornament and throwing it to his brother. Ubbe pursed his lips, dodging the improvised weapon. “You did this to get back at me, hmm? YOU WANT ALL I HAVE, DON’T YOU?” He seethed, eyes and mouth wide open, exposing his teeth like a menacing predator as he let out a guttural laugh.

Bjorn was having a difficult time restraining him. Years relying on his upper body strength gave Ivar the advantage of resilience amongst his biggest sibling, while Bjorn struggled to keep him in place. Ivar managed to grab the second glass ornament, throwing it as he shrieked.

“DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” his voice boomed in the room, palm pounding his chest as his free hand signaled the whole place. “YOU CAN’T TAKE THIS AWAY FROM ME, I AM IVAR LOTHBROK! YOU CAN’T TAKE THIS AWAY FROM ME!” Ivar kept shouting, cursing as he spat towards Ubbe.

Hvitserk stepped forward, having seen enough, ready to take on his little brother. To his surprise, Ubbe halted him, his arm creating a barrier between Hvitserk and Ivar as he observed with intent and horror etched on his face.

That night, Ivar lost the little progress he made. He broke his femur, dignity left behind as an ambulance carried him to the emergency room.

As if that wasn’t enough, he lost another family member to Lagertha that night.

With a reedy voice as he laid down in the hospital bed, he asked Ubbe one thing:

“Bring her back.” He whispered, his eyes stuck in the ceiling, pretty certain that if he laid his eyes on his brother, he would kill him. “She is working for Lothbrok Inc. now. Bring her back.” His request was met with silence. “That’s an order.” He swallowed, nostrils flaring with each ticking second.

“I’m sorry, Ivar.” Ubbe mumbled. “The Sigurðdóttir Trust is out of your reach.” He reminded him, reopening a wound that Ivar closed not so long ago. “That’s what mother wished.” Ivar snapped his head at the mention of his beloved mother. The brim of his eyes were red like his sclera, a menacing gaze stabbing his brother as Ivar grabbed his wrist.

“You have three days to gather your stuff and leave Lothbrok Inc.” Ivar seethed as he moved his face closer to his brother. “If you’re not gone after that, I will make sure you’ll leave the premises crawling like I crawled as a child.” Ivar swore, releasing his wrist as he let his head drop back to the sterile pillow.

Up to this day, Ivar still saw Ubbe’s action as a huge betrayal. He knew his older brother would return to his life as the new addition of Lagertha’s legal team, Bjorn granted his little brother this little backup plan.

Tonight, his thoughts weighted a little heavier. His eyes scanned the city before focusing on his bedroom, where he finds the clothes he wore today discarded on the leather chair. Behind him, his wife slept peacefully, her baby bumb protuding more and more each passing day. His legs were alright, but with the absence of physical pain he could sense his yearning looming over his head.

Ivar sighs and stands up silently, his bare feet and metallic support dragging on the tiles as he moved to his home office.

Dr. Nielsen taught him the importance of adapted emotional releases. She actively discouraged Ivar from indulging in his impulses and told him to write them down instead. For business meetings, Ivar was told to count until 10, 20 or even 30 if he was encountered with bad news. When it came to personal affairs, Dr. Nielsen told him to write letters addressed to the pertinent subject. Ivar could write them and discard them, write them and take them to therapy or he could write them and send them to the addressee.

It wasn’t the most effective exercise, but it kept his flame at bay. He needed to learn to do that, now that he knew he had a little one coming soon.

Sometimes he wrote to his mother, asking her questions about ruling an empire he wished he had the answer to. Those he kept, as a tool to reflect later on when his ambition peaked. The more emotional ones he’d take to Dr. Nielsen, a proof of his progress on his journey to... normalcy. The ones he wrote to Sigurd, those he threw away. In those pages filled with guilt and rage, he found himself cornered in a bleak past that seemed to refuse to let him go.

Tonight, he thought about you.

It wasn’t like you weren’t a constant presence in his mind, like an annoying tenant in his brain that refused to leave or pay rent. Ivar just chose to remember the best parts of you, those who could be found at the bar you owned, or on his bed when Freydis left him for the night. If he kept you alive that way, he would also keep alive that part of him he thought he lost. You were inevitable, like the pain after a blow or the kiss after a reencounter.

He wishes he could blame you. For leaving, for stepping outside the gala without waiting for your dance. For silently giving away your shares to Hvitserk, who the only thing he knew about bars was how to empty the alcohol pantry. But there is a part of him that cannot physically repulse you.

Ivar sits down and turns on the desk lamp in front of him. He finds his precious pen and puts a piece of paper on the desk. Before starting, he hesitates.

Dear (Y/n),

He groans, crossing the two words with disdain.

Hello.

“Hello?” Ivar shakes his head, crossing the word again.

Hi, princess.

Ivar cringes. No.

Frustrated, he discards the paper. He had done it before. Why was it so hard to do it all over again now?

Just... Jump right in. Start from the beginning, start from the middle, start from the end if you prefer. He recalls the advice of his therapist. Sometimes, formalities are overrated. It may help when you have nothing to say, but it becomes a burden when you got too much to say. Ivar reflected.

And so he did.

Every night I drive through the streets of Kattegat I find myself looking for you wandering around, looking for me to give you a lift, for the memory of our first reencounters were the ones that helped us find redemption.

It is weird, but I still have the need to find you even though I know you are no longer here. The idea of you lives in my head, that I am sure of. The feel of you, that is what I miss.

I guess part of me feels like I still need to apologise for something that I’ve done.

At the sight of his words written on paper, Ivar blinks. He never consciously thought much more ahead of his negations, his feelings dictating the perspectives he kept imposing to his reality.

He sacrificed so much for you. He tried to change for you. He went to therapy, he learned to walk. Ivar tried to become the right man for you, he really tried.

He wished you were there to see it.

Ivar doesn’t really know what he did wrong. All he knows is...

And now that you’re gone for good,

He shakes his head, crossing the last two words.

all I wish for is to be in the wrong this time.

Ivar huffs in frustration.

I wish I had been selfish, I wish I was the old Ivar. I wish I had begged you to stay, to manage this empire I never chos- by my side.

I know you would have never wanted this.

But I know you would have never said no to us.

Mindlessly, Ivar puts his pen in his mouth, a subconscious tick he developped not-so recently. Passing his hands through his hair, he sighed.

I started to smoke. He confessed. I know you never liked the smell, how it clings to my clothes, my mouth, how it lingered around the house when my brothers decided to have one one in their rooms. Ivar snorts at the memory. Not that you’re here to tell me off.

Freydis has been buying candles, they’re all around the house now. The smell of the cigarettes blends with the essences and I technically get to have fire dispensers in every single room.

“Maybe I’m waiting for you to magically show up and tell me to fuck off.” He whispers.

Suddenly, Ivar shakes his head, as if the physical gesture cleared his mind.

I guess I’ll have to stop soon, I have a baby on the way. He releases an airy laugh as he re-reads what he just wrote. Who would have thought, (Y/n)? A baby. Me. Your Ivar.

The young Ragnarsson lets out a tired sigh, strenghening his grip on the metalling pen as he mindlessly tapped on the crystal desk. With resigned resolution, he decides to write his last lines, telling himself that he is finally starting to accept reality.

I know you’re not going to come back. Not to the place we grew up at, at least.

If you ever do, I just want to let you know, as sappy as it may sound, that my heart will always be open for you, even when my arms are not.

I miss you.

I miss us.

Take care,

Ivar.

Dropping the pen, Ivar stares at his letter. His hands blindly search for an envelope, a frown etched on his face until his fingertips brush against the soft surface of the letter. You don’t know, but he found your new address. He searched around Ubbe’s old files.

With a careful manner, Ivar writes down your address on the envelope.

He stands up, walks to his living room and grabs a jacket as he makes his way to the exit.

All of the sudden he stops right on his tracks, his free hand almost reaching to the door handle. Freydis seemed to have forgotten to put out a lone candle, a tiny fragrance dispenser resting on the entrance drawer.

Ivar may not be aware of a lot of things in life, but one thing he was certain of: smoke traveled faster than mail.

His hand was trembling slightly, but it managed to follow his instructions. With a swift move, Ivar positioned the ephemeral piece of paper on the fire, watching intently how the flames consumed his words and took them to you. Discreetly, he threw the burning letter in the empty bin, the lid cutting short the trail of smoke escaping from the container.

He makes sure ashes are all what it remains from his indecent confession and makes his way back to the bedroom. Slowly but steadily, Ivar returns to bed, nesting himself between the sheets before holding his beloved wife in his embrace.

Tonight, he was human. Tomorrow, he’ll have to be a God.

The end.

Taglist:

Note: This is the old taglist I have noted from my past Ivar ficts. Please let me know if you want to be removed or added by sending an ask here.

@aesstheticallypleasing @captstefanbrandt @unicornbaby741 @fuckthatfeeling @huffelpuffers @yannii04 @collecting-stories @timber3 @darkwolfpeanutskeleton @vampsclassiffied @lenafarn @yourpurplequeen@youbloodymadgenius @lettersofwrittencollective

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar lothbrok x reader #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar/reader #ivar the boneless/reader #ivar ragnarsson/reader #ivar imagine #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar lothbrok imagine #ivar lothbrok/reader #Ivar One shot #ivar the boneless one shot #ivar lothbrok one shot #ivar ragnarsson one shot #ivar ragnarsson imagine

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textsfromthefifthbasement · 3 years

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Potober Day 11

Hi, everyone! Here’s the oneshot for Day 11 of coatntail’s Potober prompts: “lake under the opera house” - Drowning/the underground lake/the Siren

Leave the Past Behind

Meg stood on the pier, looking out over the harbor. The water lapped at the shore quietly, and in the distance, she could barely make out the silhouette of buildings across the harbor. She felt as if someone were watching her. “Erik,” she said, “I know you’re there.”

He stepped out from behind some boxes. “People like to drown themselves at this pier. Why are you here, Meg?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you the same?”

He stood beside her, looking down at the boards of the pier. Meg sighed. “I like to swim here at night. Maybe it’s tempting fate.”

Erik was quiet for a few more moments. “She didn’t come.”

Meg looked over at him, wondering what he was referring to at first. Then, she remembered all the newspapers she and Mama had burned announcing Christine’s upcoming arrival in New York City. She had been so excited to see her old friend. He must have found out anyways. He continued, “There was a death in the de Chagny family, and it gave her and that boy enough money that she cancelled all her performances.”

He let out a bitter chuckle. Meg hesitated for a moment before resting her hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, I should’ve known I’m never this lucky.” He seemed to suddenly become aware of her hand on his forearm and flinched away.

Meg shed the coat she was wearing to hide her bathing suit. “Do you know how to swim?”

Erik looked at her, his visible eyebrow raised. “Yes.”

“Would you join me, then?”

Erik paused for a second before shedding his own coat. Meg dipped into the water as he stripped to his shirtsleeves. The ocean water was cold, sending a shock through her body. She relished in the feeling—she felt free, clean, pure.

Then, Erik joined her in the water. In the moonlight, she saw how the water plastered his shirt against his chest. She saw the outlines of scars crossing his chest, could almost count his ribs. Meg averted her eyes.

Then, she heard a clatter on the docks. “I’m sorry,” Erik said. “I can’t—in the water, the mask—”

Meg realized he must have taken his mask off and looked back at him in surprise. She had only seen his face a couple of times before, never under good circumstances. There had been the time her mother had dragged him to their house, half-frozen and exhausted, and the time she had visited the freak show he had hired himself out when they first immigrated. That time, she had thrown up.

In the moonlight, though, it didn’t seem so bad. Maybe this is why he always preferred the night.

Meg bit her lip and dove under the water to get her hair wet. When she came back up, he had one arm wrapped around one of the pier’s posts. She felt the butterflies in her stomach—she had tried to repress what she felt for him so long. It was hopeless that he’d ever reciprocate any feelings she had, so it was easier to pretend they didn’t exist.

She didn’t know what came over her in that moment. Meg swam over to him and pressed her lips against his. It felt odd, at first. His lips were uneven, one side swollen, and he didn’t react.

But then, she felt his arms wrap around her and lift her out of the water. She wrapped her legs against his chest, trying to find her balance. His lips opened slightly as he started returning the kiss.

Meg finally pulled away, slightly panting. She could hear his breath coming quicker than normal, as well. She brushed her thumb across his twisted cheek and met his eyes. Then, Erik pressed his lips against hers again. Meg’s head spun. He tasted vaguely of red wine. He broke away from her and cradled her in his arms.

For the first time in ten years, Meg wasn’t looking back at what she had thought were her better days, those days as a ballerina in the Palais Garnier. Their past no longer seemed to loom over them, shadowing their lives with the bitterness of what could have been.

No, for the first time, Meg could imagine she had a future.

#potober #the phantom of the opera #love never dies #meg giry #erik #the phantom #e/m #because meg's line 'to happy ends' in dear old friends gives me Emotions

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paradox-psyc-hoe-sis · 4 years

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X-men preference - how they flirt with you!

Charles x reader, Erik x reader, Hank x reader, Logan x reader, Kurt x reader

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: yo yo yo, this is my first x-men related fic but I've been so engrossed with the fandom recently that I'll definitely be writing more :D (also the reader is a teacher at the mansion) - Honey

CHARLES

• Charles was very discreet with the way he flirted with you, wanting to get to know you more.

• He'd spend more time with you between classes, asking you about your abilities, talking to you about your life before you came to the academy, etc.

• Before you two were really close, he treated you in a strictly friendly manner. As you both grew closer, his feelings manifested into physical actions.

• Small hugs, kissing you on the cheek, instinctively clutching your hand at the sense of danger, and even you letting him into your mind.

• Obviously, it was pretty clear there was a thing between you.

• After a few months, you realised you liked him, too.

• You were both in the courtyard one evening, Charles talking about recruiting some new students.

• The way the purple sky reflected on his glassy eyes, his stubble-littered jaw, soft lips curved at the edges as he spoke.

• As he was halfway through a sentence, you impulsively leaned in and placed your your lips onto his.

• It took him a second to realise what was happening, but once he caught on he firmly kissed back, closing any remaining space between you.

• After a while, you both leaned back, a smile lingering between you both.

• "I really like you, Charles."

• A small chuckle escaped his lips as he cupped your cheek.

• "I didn't have to read your mind to figure that one out, y/n."

ERIK

• Erik was NOT subtle with the way he flirted.

• Eying you up and down with a smirk, staring at your behind when you weren't looking, wrapping an arm around your waist whenever you were near.

• He was just naturally affectionate, which you certainly didn't mind.

• He'd randomly bring you flowers in the middle of the day, because "they were on sale and just reminded me of you."

• And when others were off on a mission, he'd insist on cooking you dinner.

• The way you really knew that he liked you was that he'd sometimes open up to you about his emotions.

• The only person he's talked to in the past about his feelings was Charles, but it always ended in arguments.

• But often he'd wake up in the middle of the night and go downstairs to see you, also downstairs & wide awake, drinking hot cocoa.

• It became a weekly tradition for the both of you to have a cup of cocoa on a Sunday night, usually around midnight.

• When you were both downstairs, he'd talk to you about his childhood and his mental health. You were always there for him, listening to every word.

• So one sunday night you were creeping down the stairs, waiting to find Erik in the kitchen with 2 mugs of hot chocolate.

• However, instead of preparing your hot drinks, he was stood next to the record player. "Care for a dance?"

• Slow music played as you swayed across the floor.

• That night, he told you that he loved you. And, of course, you said it back :)

HANK

• As soon as you and Hank met, everyone knew he had a crush on you.

• Whenever you talk to him, touch him in any way, or even flash him a smile he'll automatically blush and get all flustered.

• "Hey Hank, I really like your sweater!"

• "Uh..m-my sweater? I uh...I don't...um, thank you."

• Once he became more comfortable around you, he started to flirt a lot more.

• Teasing little jokes and compliments were thrown back and forth a lot between you both, as well as longing glances when the other isn't looking.

• He loved to have you in the lab with him, and you were completely happy supporting him & listening to him drone on about his discoveries.

• He had been working on a serum for months, when one day he finally cracked it.

• He was working at his desk in the lab, you directly opposite reading a book, when he suddenly erupted.

• "YES!!! I'VE DONE IT!"

• You saw the small vile he was holding and automatically knew what he was talking about.

• You ran over to him and instinctively gave him a hug, him gripping you just as tight.

• However, you also absentmindedly went in for a kiss.

• It was small and light, and you pulled back straight away.

• "I...I'm sorry, I shouldn't ha-"

• He cut you off by pressing a firmer kiss to your lips, his hands gripping your waist with delight.

LOGAN

• We all know that Logan can be a stupid bitch when it comes to emotions.

• So when he realised he had feelings for you, he immediately distanced himself.

• He rarely showed up to meals, seldom participated in group activities, and avoided you at all costs.

• The only time you saw him was between classes, making your way to your next group of students and seeing him lurking in the corridors.

• His sudden withdrawal came so randomly to you & the other x-men, though.

• He'd often help you grade papers, drive you to the local convenience store for grocery shopping, and even help you cook meals for the staff.

• But all that stopped once he figured out his feelings for you.

• And frankly, you were sICK of it.

• One night, you got back late from visiting a family member. It must have been 11pm by the time you arrived back at the mansion, and the only thought that played on your mind during the drive home was Logan.

• Once you got in and put your bag down, you went straight to Logan's room. Trying to keep your cool, you knocked three times on his door.

• No reply.

• "I know you're in there, Logan. Let me in!"

• No reply.

• So, you let yourself in. And there he was, sat on his bed, flipping through a book, not at all surprised that you'd let yourself in.

• Once he saw you stood in the doorway, brows furrowed, he stood up and walked towards you.

• "Everything okay?" He grumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

• "No, Logan. Everything isn't okay. Why are you ignoring me?"

• You closed the door behind you, walking closer to him.

• Without a second of hesitation, he strode towards you, pushing you up against the wall.

• He waited a second before cupping your cheek and kissing you, teeth grazing your lips.

• Let's just say...you didn't get much sleep that night ;)

KURT

• Kurt was similar to Hank when it came to expressing emotions, yet he was certainly more romantic.

• Yes, he could get easily flustered around you, but he always found a way to turn it into a romantic situation.

• He'd write you small poems on sticky notes and leave them in your room, buy your favourite chocolate and put it under your pillow, and even pick you flowers from the gardens to surprise you on a bad day.

• It was obvious to everyone - including you - that he had a crush on you. And sure, you liked him too, but you wanted him to confess his feelings.

• When I tell you this boy was whipped; he was WHIPPED.

• Spill some water? He'll he there to clean it up. Break a glass? He's already scooped up the pieces and put them in the bin. Trouble grading papers? He's right behind you with the marking scheme to keep you on track.

• Although you'd tell him so many times that you can do it by yourself, he was eager to treat you like the princess that you were.

• It was the evening of your birthday when he confessed his feelings.

• The x-men had thrown you a party, and when the festivities were over, he stayed to help you clean up.

• "Y'know, I never managed to give you your birthday present."

• He told you to close your eyes and stick out your hand. Once you did, you felt him take your hand, and suddenly you felt a cool breeze against your arms.

• You opened your eyes in awe at your surroundings; you and Kurt were on top of the Eiffel tower, gazing down at the French city behind you.

• "Holy shit, Kurt - this is s-"

• He cut you off, placing his lips on yours. He didn't add too much pressure, waiting for you to respond, but loosened up when you lifted a hand up to cup his cheek.

• Your lil blueberry just wants everything for his queen <3

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